The Pursuit of Perfection
by Battle Fries
Summary: The crew of Voyager is shocked to find a certain red-haired witch in the Delta Quadrant.  Assorted hijinks and shenanigans ensue.
1. The Guardian

**Chapter One: The Guardian**

* * *

><p><em>Captain's Log, Stardate 51904.7: We've detected a transmission coming from an M-class planet three light years from our current position. The transmission is, for all intents and purposes, an invitation to anyone wishing to deal in good faith with the senders, who call themselves the Topara. It's certainly a pleasant surprise, after encountering so many hostile and xenophobic species in the Delta Quadrant, but I still intend to approach their world with caution. While it could be a trap, my gut feeling is that these people truly do mean well.<em>

"We're approaching the Toparan world, Captain."

"All stop, Mr. Paris," Captain Janeway instructed her helmsman. "Tuvok, what can you tell me?"

"Sensors indicate a technologically-advanced civilization, approximately on par with current Federation standards. I am detecting several orbital satellites, but there are no indications of any ships within the vicinity of the system. There are no ground-based weapons or shields that I can detect."

"Sounds like a pacifistic society," Chakotay said from the seat to Janeway's left. "It does seem strange that they're in such a welcoming mood considering all the hostile species around."

"They could have defenses we can't detect," Janeway said skeptically. "Still, they might have resources we can trade for, and who knows? We might actually be able to make some friends for a change. Hail the surface."

A few seconds later, a signal chimed from Tuvok's control panel. "They are responding."

Janeway smiled to herself. "On screen." Standing up, the Captain took in two figures in flowing navy blue robes. They had green skin that was closer to blue than it was to an Orion's pigmentation. They had no hair, and they had pointed ears that were far larger and less elegant than a Vulcan's. White eyes with no visible pupils stared out from an otherwise normal humanoid face.

"Welcome to our home, good travelers. We are the High Clerics of the Topara People, and we honor our welcome guests," one of the robed men said. _I think it's a man, anyway._

Janeway smiled, feeling a bit puzzled if she was honest with herself. "My name is Captain Janeway, of the Federation Starship _Voyager_. We are honored to be welcomed so openly, though I must confess to a bit of hesitation. You know nothing about us, and yet you open up to us so freely."

"An understandable concern, considering the many dangers of this region of space, Captain," the other figure said, and this one sounded distinctly female. "Our planet is protected from those who wish us harm. We take it you detected our transmission? If you had hostile intentions, you would have been unable to locate our world."

The male cleric spoke up again. "We do not know what means of transportation you have, Captain, but we do not have any means of space travel. We only launch a few satellites once in a great while to ease global communications. You are, however, most welcome to visit our world. We must request, however, that you arrive unarmed."

"You come from a 'Federation,' you say," the female cleric said. "That suggests a multitude of worlds and species. We are always seeking to broaden our knowledge of the universe. We would be honored to learn more about you and your people, Captain."

_Well, isn't this a nice surprise?_ "We would be honored to learn about you as well, High Clerics," she said, unsure if that was the appropriate way to address them. "Our charter is to seek out new life, and we do it gladly. We have technology that allows us to transport directly to the surface. Would that be acceptable to you?"

"Most assuredly, Captain," the female cleric replied. "Please, if you can detect where we are standing, do come to us. With your permission, a group of Seers will join us to greet you."

_Seers? Are they a precognitive race? They're not unheard of, but even still…_ "If I may ask, High Clerics, how do your 'Seers' differ from normal Topara?" Janeway asked a touch too eagerly. Such a gift in an ally could be useful.

The male cleric smiled gently. "Most Topara are Seers, good Captain. The clerics of our world are those born with gifts other than sight. The Seers are just as they sound: they are the ones who can see."

Janeway was a bit taken aback. "Oh, my mistake." _That makes a strange amount of sense._ "Please expect us shortly. I just need a few minutes to assemble the team that will accompany me."

"Of course, Captain. Take all the time you require. May Peace go with you." Both clerics bowed before terminating the transmission.

Chakotay turned to Janeway. "They certainly seem friendly. And awfully sure of whatever they claim is protecting them. I wonder what sort of power, if any, these clerics have."

"Whatever the case may be, they seem quite a bit like us. Explorers, only they want the galaxy to come to them. Not a unique case, but interesting enough. Harry, have Lieutenant Torres and Mister Neelix meet me in Transporter Room One. Have them dress for a diplomatic mission. Tuvok, you too. After changing into dress uniforms, that is."

"Pardon me, Captain," Chakotay said, "but do you honestly intend to take _B'Elanna_ with you on a first contact mission?"

Janeway put her hands on her hips and let her lips form a smirk. "The Topara are interested in meeting new life, just as we are. B'Elanna certainly qualifies on many fronts."

Chakotay smiled. "Just be careful."

Janeway nodded. "You have the bridge, Commander. Tuvok, let's go."

* * *

><p>Before heading to the transporter room, Janeway decided to make one final stop. Arriving in Astrometrics, the Captain found Seven of Nine taking detailed readings of the planet below.<p>

"I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time, Seven?"

"No, Captain. I am gathering data regarding the Topara defensive capabilities," the former drone said without turning around.

Janeway cocked her head with a small smile. "They seem peaceful enough."

"Do not be deceived, Captain." Again, Seven did not turn around. "Species 297: Topara. Probes of the planet indicated a post-industrial society with minimal aggressive technology. A single cube was sent to assimilate them 370 years ago. It was destroyed shortly after its arrival in the system. After analyzing the force that destroyed it, three more cubes were sent. The adaptations were not successful, and they were also destroyed. No Borg vessel was ever able to locate the Toparan home world after the destruction of those three cubes."

"What are you saying, Seven? That these peaceful people, who show no signs of even having any weapons, were able to defeat four Borg cubes so quickly?"

"Yes, Captain. The Borg spent years analyzing the force that destroyed our vessels, but after several inconclusive analyses, the Topara were designated as an inefficient use of resources. They were ignored in favor of other species who added to the greater whole of the Collective."

Janeway found herself smirking despite herself. "In other words, the Borg found someone who they couldn't touch, and decided it was best to leave them alone instead of taking a wild gamble."

Now, Seven did turn to look at Janeway. "The Topara have technology capable of destroying the Borg. Or they had that capability almost four hundred years ago. They have remained hidden since then. Do not assume that because a species is hostile to the Borg that they will be your allies."

Seven looked at the Captain now, her eyes traveling up and down. "You intend to initiate first contact with the Topara?"

"I do, Seven," Janeway said. Seven's words certainly led credence to the Toparan claims that only friendly species could find them. "Care to join me?"

Seven raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Captain?"

"You're no longer part of the Collective, Seven, and you can only learn so much about a civilization by scanning them from orbit. From what they've told me, hostile people can't approach them. So, unless you're planning to assimilate them, you could have a chance to see things that no drone has ever witnessed."

Janeway could see the gears turning in Seven's head. She could almost hear the young woman's fear of the Topara vying with her curiosity. One thing that the Borg and the Federation had in common was a yearning for knowledge. Janeway hoped that the chance to study the galaxy without hurting anyone would convince Seven to remain on _Voyager_. She'd been getting a bit touchy lately about her evolution as a human, but Janeway knew that Seven was still a person deep down.

Finally, the tall, blonde woman inclined her head. "I will join you, Captain. Do you mean to depart now?"

"Yes. Are you ready, Seven?"

"No. But, I will adapt."

* * *

><p>The transporter beam deposited the away team in an open-air garden with a number of Topara walking about. Most wore dark blue robes, and to their left was a small console at which the two High Clerics were standing with smiles on their faces.<p>

"Welcome to Topa," the male cleric said warmly. "I am High Cleric Yorei, and this is High Cleric Teya," he said, gesturing to his companion, both of whom bowed their heads.

Janeway smiled. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway. With me is Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Ambassador Neelix, and…" Janeway was unsure of what to call Seven. Aside from little Naomi Wildman, she was the only member of the crew without any sort of rank. "…and Expert Seven of Nine," she said eventually. It was as good a descriptor as any, given the woman's expertise in any number of subjects.

"Such different names," Teya said. "Are you all from different species?"

"Mostly, yes," Janeway said with a smile. "Mister Tuvok is Vulcan. Mister Neelix is Talaxian. Lieutenant Torres's mother was Klingon, and her father was human. Both of my parents were human, as were Seven of Nine's parents."

"To use a number for a name… Forgive us, Captain. We are not blessed with sight. What reason would someone have for such a name?"

It was Seven herself who responded. "I was assimilated by the Borg as a child. Captain Janeway severed my link to the Collective and took me with her."

Janeway had to stop herself from wincing at Seven's words. Not only had she confessed to being Borg, which would have to upset these people, but her phrasing of Janeway's actions sounded harsher than they seemed in the Captain's eyes. _Seven joined us. Did I really_ take _her?_

"You were Borg?" Yorei said, obviously alarmed. Again, Janeway hoped this wouldn't turn into a diplomatic incident.

Teya, however, surprised her. "And as a child, too. We know what the Borg are, but we are protected by the Guardian. And now you have confirmed that you are humans. Truly, this is a momentous day! We only need a Seer now to confirm what you have told us!"

Janeway was taken aback by the pure joy in the High Cleric's voice. "You've had contact with humans before?"

"The Guardian has been waiting almost four centuries for Her kind to come for Her. She knew it was only a matter of time before Her people ceased to bicker amongst themselves and cross the void of space. If this is the fulfillment of the prophecy, then we will have to adapt to life without Her."

"I'm sorry," Janeway said, feeling lost. "Are you saying that you _worship_ a human woman? A woman who has lived for almost four hundred years here on your world?"

"In a sense," Yorei said. "Come with us. We must introduce you to the Weaver. He is the chronicler of our history, and he is a Seer. He will explain everything."

Janeway was grateful for B'Elanna's silence, as well as Neelix's. As much as the Captain admired them, they could be overly verbose – in very different ways – and right now, the Topara had more interesting things to say.

They followed the High Clerics up a flight of stairs onto an elevated walkway with a wall on one side. Stretching the wall was a vast tapestry that seemed to go on forever. At the end they were at, a clear creation myth played out in colored fabrics, and as the High Clerics had said, it seemed to tell the entirety of Toparan history.

Eventually, they came to a third Toparan, who stood waiting, hands clasped in front of him, a smile on his face. Unlike the High Clerics, his eyes had dark red pupils and black irises. "Can it be?" he said, evidently awestruck. "Another human, at long last!"

"Call it two and a half," Janeway said with a chuckle. B'Elanna growled something behind her. "Most of our crew is human, and we are on a long journey home."

"You must tell them of our history since the Guardian came to us, Gleffen," Teya said to him.

"Of course, High Cleric," the Weaver – apparently of the tapestry – called Gleffen said. "It begins right here," he said, gesturing to the work of art on his right. He pointed at black shapes in the sky.

"The Borg came. They sent small ships, scouts for what our clerics told us was a scourge like no other. We had no defense that would prove adequate, so we attempted to flee."

He walked a few steps and gestured to a shining blue thing surrounded by robed figures. "The Clerics opened a portal to another world, hoping to allow our people time to flee while they held the way open."

Janeway stood in awe as she listened to – and watched – the tale unfold. The clerics of Toparan society had some sort of psychokinetic power, it seemed. To open a gate based on force of will… There were stories of species that could do such things, but they were few, and even fewer of those stories were accurate. And that wasn't counting non-corporeal beings like the Q.

Weaver Gleffen continued the story. "But the other side of the portal was already occupied. A world called Earth, so far away. Before any of our number could cross, we were intercepted by those called Slayers and Watchers. They guarded their Earth against threats from Beyond, which they feared we were. The Slayers carried weapons that we had not seen since our Darkest Age, and we were afraid."

Janeway saw a picture of women – _No, more like girls_ – wielding bladed weapons. One with blonde hair held a wicked red weapon that looked like a combination of an axe and a scythe with a sharp point on the handle.

"But they did not rush in and attack us. They merely guarded their side of the rift while they sent the most powerful of their number seal the rift," Gleffen said as he gestured to an image of a red-haired human woman in flowing green robes.

"We pleaded with them to grant us sanctuary, but they would not listen. They feared us and knew not that we were harmless.

"And then the Borg came." Gleffen pointed to what was obviously a Borg cube looming in the sky. "The one the Slayers had sent to seal the rift felt the power of the Borg, and She knew with certainty that we were truthful. She looked and saw our civilization, and She told us that She would not let it perish.

"She remained here, on our world, while others with Power sealed the rift behind her. She trapped Herself here and destroyed the first of the Borg invaders before they could take any of us, but not before they made their intentions clear."

"They hailed you," Seven of Nine said from behind Janeway.

Gleffen made a gesture that Janeway assumed was holy to him. "Yes. They spoke with one voice that was many, and they told us that we would become like them. But the human proclaimed Herself our Guardian, and She protected us.

"The Borg came again, the next year. This time, their cubes numbered three," and he pointed to the tapestry where three cubes hung in the sky, though they seemed small next to a light emitted by the red-haired woman. "The Guardian protected us again, but it cost Her. She glimpsed into the mind of the enemy, and she was stricken with horror. She turned Herself to stone to allow Herself to heal.

"For the next century, at each equinox and at each solstice, She would emerge for that day to take in the changes in our world. After one hundred years, She had healed, and she had grown stronger. But she could not delay the passage of time. She held onto the belief that others of her race would grow to explore and would come to Topa in time. So She set herself in stone again, emerging four times a year, all the while casting Her magicks to protect us."

Gleffen gestured and walked along the path, showing the progresses in Toparan technology over the years, and the sky now glowed. The red-haired woman, now clearly made of dark stone, stood prominently in many features. One showed her as a woman, meeting an alien species that Janeway did not recognize.

"Yes, fortune smiled on us that day. A race of friends came to us at the Autumnal Equinox, and the Guardian was witness to it. We celebrate all days as holy when we meet new species, but days such as this one are truly extraordinary.

"And now, you are here at last, to take Her home," Gleffen said with glee. "I only regret that you will not be here to see this addition to the tapestry. Earth must be far away, and you will need to make from here with speed. But the Guardian will help you, I am sure of it."

"Thank you, Weaver Gleffen," Yorei said to him. "We will take the Captain and her friends to see the Guardian now."

"Be safe on your journey, good friends!" Gleffen said happily with a bow of his head. "Do take care of our Guardian."

"Thank you, Weaver," Janeway said neutrally, but internally she was terribly confused. A human woman had beaten back Borg cubes with what the Topara called magic. And based on the weapons that the so-called 'Slayers' had been using, their portal might have opened to a time in Earth's past. Warrior women were one thing, but magic? That was just preposterous. _Unless it was a future Earth in which humans have evolved such powers. _The possibilities were either very many or very few. It was unlikely, however, that the Topara were lying. They'd have had no way of knowing that _Voyager_ was even out here, after all.

Descending another flight of stairs, the Captain followed the two High Clerics into the garden-temple that they had visited earlier and walked further down a central path. "There is one final test," Teya said carefully. "The only thing that can awaken the Guardian, other than a change of the seasons, is the touch of another of Her kind. Or so She has said. Come. She awaits."

A small altar waited up ahead, surrounded by flowers and carved stone. Atop the dais was a dark gray statue of a woman – more like a girl – sitting cross-legged. She looked happy and peaceful. And she was definitely human.

Janeway was awestruck. Here was a human face thousands of light years away from where any humans should be. Was this all some sort of scam? Or a trap? Or was it really what the Topara said it was? Could this really be a woman with some sort of extraordinary power? And if it was, should the Captain be the one to make such a potentially dangerous decision?

"Captain," Tuvok said, as if to remind her of her responsibilities as a Commanding Officer.

"Yes, Tuvok, I know. Thank you," she said in a clipped voice. "Seven?" Janeway asked. "Would you care to do the honors?" she asked, looking to her newest crew member. In all likelihood, nothing would happen. But if it did, well, Tuvok had a point.

* * *

><p>Why was the Captain asking her, of all people, to be the one to touch the statue? This power was just as likely to harm Borg as it was to respond kindly to humans. Seven knew that the Captain followed certain protocols very strictly, but she was usually one to risk herself for things she saw as important. Her lack of rank and standing in this matter served to drive home just how much Seven didn't fit.<p>

"No," she said flatly. "If the Toparan claims are true, and I do not see why they could not be, then such a person would be incredibly dangerous. I refuse to take that risk just because I am the only other full-blooded human present."

"Oh, come on, Seven," Neelix said brightly. "This is an amazing opportunity! An attempt to explore your humanity some more! Go on, just touch the statue. It can't hurt you." And with those words, Neelix pushed the ex-drone forward towards the altar. The heels that the Doctor had added to her biosuit did not help her balance.

"What are you doing? Stop!" But Seven found herself stumbling towards the statue before tripping on a stone and collapsing into the carving. Seven's hands found the figure's shoulders and kept her head from smacking into stone.

But when Seven refocused her eyes, she was no longer looking at a statue. A young woman, close to her own age, she guessed, looked up at her. Long red hair and bright green eyes highlighted a smiling face.

Seven stumbled to her feet until she stood on the altar, towering over the sitting human girl. She was smiling, but she would figure out what had happened before too long, and then they would all be doomed.

To her surprise, the red-haired woman - the so-called Guardian - just took in Seven, looking her up and down. "Pretty woman. Good dream. Sleep now. G'night." She then fell sideways onto the altar with her eyes closed. She seemed to be resting peacefully.

Lieutenant Torres was failing to hide her laughter from behind Seven. "Well, well. Looks like you have an admirer, Seven. At least until she finds out what you are."

"B'Elanna!" Janeway said harshly, "not here. Not now. Understood?"

Suitably chastised, Torres sobered up. "Yes, Captain."

Mentally, Seven took in the situation. The woman was definitely human, and definitely capable of some sort of powers beyond the norm for the species. Or, she could be another species entirely. Plenty of aliens were very similar in appearance to humans.

Captain Janeway's combadge chirped. "Chakotay to Janeway," Seven heard the commander say.

The Captain looked to the High Clerics and excused herself, but Seven listened in. Borg implants in her brain and inner ear gave her enhanced hearing. It could be both a gift and a curse, given the proper circumstances.

"Go ahead," Janeway said once she seemed sure of her isolation.

"Our sensors just showed us two very unusual things. Another human life sign appeared at your position."

Seven could hear the glee in the Captain's voice. "I'll explain when we get back to the ship. She'll be coming with us."

"All right. But you should come straight to the bridge as soon as you all get out of sickbay."

"What's the matter, Chakotay? What else did the sensors tell you?"

Seven heard a deep breath that she had learned was generally a herald of ill news. "A moment after our new human appeared, the screens all showed the same thing, and they won't revert back to normal. It's Omega, Captain."

_Omega? Here?_ Particle 010, as it was known to the Borg, was the very embodiment of perfection. Myriad independent parts working as one, a single Omega molecule had the same power output as a Starfleet warp core. If it collapsed and destabilized, it could destroy subspace and prevent warp travel in the affected area. But if harnessed… Seven had stared into the face of a stable Omega molecule a few weeks ago before it had been destroyed, and it had been so intense. It had been as if Omega was looking into her as much as she was looking into it.

_And it appeared at the same moment that the Guardian awoke. What does that make her?_ Captain Janeway had challenged Seven about the Borg's theories regarding Omega. She had wondered if they were actually beliefs, as if the Borg looked up to something like a higher power. In a way, she was not wrong.

_Omega would explain the Guardian's power. What is she?_ Seven found it incredibly disconcerting when the most appropriate word in her vast vocabulary seemed to be 'goddess.'

"Seven? Seven!"

The ex-drone turned her head sharply to see Janeway standing there. "Are you all right?"

She nodded out of habit. "Yes, Captain."

"We're returning to the ship. I've already explained to the Topara that we will be in orbit for a little while, and we're taking our new friend with us. We'll all go to sickbay, make sure we don't have any alien germs on us, and then I need your help. Omega just appeared here, at the precise moment that you touched that statue. I don't see how it's now a human, but it is. Do you have any theories?"

"No, Captain," Seven lied, refusing to divulge her sudden belief in this woman's existence as a higher power. Such a belief was a weakness that she would not allow. But Seven could not deny the inadequacy she felt in the presence of what she could only call a goddess.

The Captain sighed. "Well, we have our work cut out for us." She slapped her combadge. "Janeway to i_Voyager._/i Six to beam up. Energize."

* * *

><p>I don't own Star Trek or Buffy. I'm just playing in the sandbox their creators made.<p>

Leaving reviews is like Campbell's soup: good for the body, good for the soul.

This first chapter takes place near the end of Season Four of Voyager, and after the final episode of Buffy.

I hope you all enjoy this story! Thanks for reading! ^_^


	2. The Blood

**Chapter Two: The Blood**

* * *

><p>Seven carried the young 'Guardian' over her left shoulder, with Commander Tuvok holding her by the other side. The ex-Borg silently wondered why Starfleet couldn't invent some sort of stretcher or gurney to carry the wounded or the unconscious. A site-to-site transport would have been an inefficient use of the ship's energy, so they were carrying the red-haired stranger to Sickbay, as would have been beaming directly there from the surface.<p>

The five crewmembers plus one entered the doors where the Doctor appeared to be singing in his office. He very quickly came to his senses and strode forward. "What happened? Who is this, Captain?" he asked quickly, helping the young woman onto a biobed.

"Good question, Doctor," Janeway said. "We found her on the surface in some sort of suspended animation. According to our information, she's a human who's been here for almost four hundred years."

"Four hundred years?" the Doctor repeated with shock. "Then she'll have no defense against any number of diseases that humans have adapted to since that long ago! Not to mention any non-human viruses. And now that our favorite Greek letter is showing on all the screens once again…"

"Just help her, Doctor," the Captain said patiently. "And perhaps Mister Paris could help speed things along for the rest of us."

The Doctor let out a small hmph of doubt. "Assuming he's not whiling away his time in the holodeck, then of course I could use his assistance." He tapped his combadge. "Doctor to Paris: please report to Sickbay immediately."

"On my way," Paris replied professionally.

Seven stood by the sleeping woman on the biobed as the Doctor scanned the others for alien viruses. She didn't notice his scans of them, nor did she particularly notice when he came over to scan her. She was busy looking into the face of the resting woman. She seemed so tranquil and docile. Not at all like a destroyer of Borg. _Such a mystery_, Seven thought as she idly reached out her left hand towards the redhead's face.

The Doctor's hand caught her wrist. "Not now, Seven," he chided her. "I need to make sure she isn't ill. Please excuse me," he said a bit shortly. "All of you are fine by the way. Now, Captain, if you don't mind, it would be a lot easier to take certain readings if my screens were working."

Janeway shook her head as if snapping out of a trance. "Of course, Doctor. I'm sorry." Seven watched as the Captain deactivated the lock-out of the computers while the Doctor scanned the woman with a tricorder.

"Oh. That explains a thing or two," he said darkly as he continued scanning. "Mister Neelix," he said without looking up from his patient, "I'm sure our guest will be hungry when she awakens. Would you mind going to prepare something for her?"

"Of course, Doctor," the Talaxian said eagerly, making for the exit.

"Do try not to agitate her digestive system," the Doctor called after Neelix just as Lieutenant Paris entered.

"What've we got, Doc? Oh, hello! Who's this?" he said as he regarded the young woman on the biobed.

"We don't know. Do you?" Lieutenant Torres said sarcastically.

Paris quickly turned to face the half-Klingon. "I know she's nowhere near as beautiful as you."

"Nice save, flyboy," she said with a smile.

"We have a patient, Mister Paris," the Doctor said shortly, "who may be four centuries behind on her vaccinations. Human, from my scans, but her body also displays some highly disturbing signs. I'd like to run a blood sample through the computer first before I jump to any conclusions. Particularly regarding Omega."

"Omega?" Janeway sounded alarmed. "You're saying that this woman has something to do with the Omega particles we detected?"

The only thing preventing Seven from scoffing at the Captain's ignorance was her general lack of emotional displays in general. "Captain," she said patiently, "what else other than Omega itself has the power to destroy four Borg cubes? What else has the power to perform feats described by a technologically-advanced civilization as 'magic?'"

"I'm afraid that Seven is correct, Captain. At least, as far as I can tell," the Doctor said.

Paris shook his head. "Hang on. You're saying that Omega is a i_person_/i? I thought it was a molecule."

"In this case, it's a number of molecules within a person's body. But again, I want to run a blood test to be sure. Captain, are you all right?" the Doctor asked, noticing the Captain's somber expression.

"What? Yes, I'll be fine," she said, though she didn't look fine at all.

The Doctor nodded. "Very well. I'm going to take the sample now. Mister Paris, I may need your help with analyzing the data, as well as if our patient wakes up."

"Sure thing, Doc."

The Doctor moved in to take the blood sample from the woman's neck with a hypospray set to extract rather than inject.

The moment the instrument touched the woman's neck, however, her green eyes shot open, and Seven found herself flung against the wall by an unseen force. Everyone except the Doctor was now pinned against a wall or other surface, and his hypospray had gone flying as well.

Seven watched in horror as the woman sat up, and her eyes were no longer green, but pure black. Even the whites of her eyes were now black. Unable to help herself, Seven began to silently pray to the woman-goddess for mercy.

* * *

><p>Willow looked around the room filled with strangers wearing what were obviously military uniforms. Some were of species she didn't recognize, but some appeared to be human. Was this a dream? Whatever it was, the man standing beside her had been unaffected by her telekinetic wave, and he had tried to violate her.<p>

"You tried to take my blood," she said coldly. "What are you?"

"Well," he said slowly, looking a bit nervous, "you're on board a starship, populated by other humans. This is the sickbay, and since I'm told you've been out of touch with humanity for a little while, I was going to run an analysis of your blood to see what sorts of vaccinations you needed. As for what I am, I'm a hologram. Photons and force fields put together to form a Doctor. If you need to address me, I'm just the Doctor."

Willow found herself relaxing as she took in what had happened. They'd found her! Humans had finally reached the stars, and they'd found her! They'd become peaceful, or else they wouldn't have found Topa. This was awesome!

But first, she had to get something out of her system? "You say you're the Doctor? Doctor Who?"

And of course, the hologram looked puzzled. "Just 'Doctor' will do, Miss. I'm sorry for startling you. I'm a Doctor, not a vampire. I just want to insure your well-being."

Willow nodded. "Of course. Sounds good."

"As long as we're all buddies, miss," a man in a red and black uniform said from the wall, "I don't suppose you can let us go? Assuming it's you that's doing this?"

"Oh! Sorry! Here, let me let you go," she said as she released her hold on them. "Sorry. I panicked. I've had some bad experiences with people wanting my blood, you see. But, it's okay now, 'cause you're all here to help. A-and some of you aren't even human, which means that humans are all friendly and peaceful now, right? And wow! I'm really in the future! I've been on Topa for about three or four hundred years, but I don't know how that compares to an Earth year. So, I may not be that far in the future at all. It could just be days. Only, that would require some sort of super-fast technological evolution to get into space so quickly. O-or it could be millennia! Or hundreds of millennia! I don't even know if I'm still in the Milky Way! And I'm babbling now. I do that when I'm nervous. I'll be quiet now," Willow said as she made a display of zipping her lips closed.

The others in the room were all looking at her strangely, especially the woman who wasn't in a uniform like the others, though she did have a badge like they did. And that woman… Yowza! What a body! The bits of metal on her face almost looked like jewelry. Was she a cyborg? i_Wait a minute. Cyborg. Cy. Borg. Eep!_/i "Um, sorry, ma'am. But are you, um, gonna try to assimilate all of us now?"

The blonde woman looked taken aback. "No, I am not. I was severed from the Collective almost one year ago," she said. Willow couldn't help but feel the other woman's gaze upon her. The look on her face was almost like a more adult, supermodel-ish version of the looks that Tara and Kennedy sometimes gave her. It wasn't a look of lust or adulation, but it reminded her distinctly of when Kennedy had called her a 'goddess' after she'd turned all of the Potentials into Slayers.

"And we are pleased to have you aboard our ship," a woman in a red uniform said. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway, and this is the Starship i_Voyager_./i We're quite far from Earth, but we're trying to get home as fast as we can, Miss…"

"Oh! Sorry! I'm Willow. Rosenberg. Willow Rosenberg. It's nice to meet you!" she said brightly. _And they have women in charge of big, fancy starships in the future. Awesome!_

"Likewise," the Captain said with a smile. "But before any more introductions, we need to check your blood to see if there's… To see what vaccines you may need."

Willow winced. "Does it involve needles? I… I kinda don't like needles."

"I assure you," the Doctor said, "it's quite painless. A microscopic prick that seals itself in a moment."

"Oh. Right. Future technology. Uh, okay then."

"Thank you," the Doctor said with a smile as he pressed the device against Willow's neck. It felt cold, but it didn't hurt as she heard a small hissing sound. A moment later, she saw a vial with her blood in it.

"Give me just a moment to analyze this," the Doctor said patiently before heading into a small office. Captain Janeway, the red-uniformed man, and a gold-uniformed woman with ridges on her forehead went with him.

That left a dark-skinned guy with pointy ears and the sexy blonde lady. "So, um, does everybody always get all excited about the new girl's blood? Doesn't seem like the kinda thing the Captain would want to look at personally. Doesn't she have a really big ship to run?"

"Captain Janeway is likely checking your blood for any indicators of a threat to her ship," the blonde woman said.

"Seven," the black man warned.

"Threat? I'm not a threat, I promise! I mean, yeah, I did throw you all against the wall just now. A-and I'm sorry about that, I really am. But I was just scared. I mean, you all seem friendly, so there's no need to go all dark and veiny, right?"

"'Dark and veiny?' the black alien repeated skeptically. He sounded rather robotic. "What do you mean by that, Miss Rosenberg? Are you referring to what the Topara described as your 'magicks?'"

"Uh, kinda?" _Please, don't make me tell you too much! I don't wanna get sucked out into space!_ "Are there any other witches or warlocks here on the ship?"

"Witches?" the blonde woman asked skeptically. She also sounded a bit mechanical, but if she used to be Borg, then that was to be expected.

"Uh, yeah. You know. People who can do magic. Or, do you still burn them at the stake? I had that happen to me once, and I really don't want to go there again. But I guess I wasn't as skilled then as I am now. So, uh, yeah. Can we not go with the burning and the mobbing and such?"

The black man's eyebrows raised a bit, but he gave no other signs of emotion. "I assure you, Miss Rosenberg, such practices have been outlawed on Federation worlds for hundreds of years. And by Earth's calendar, it is late in the year 2374."

"Huh. So, a Toparan year is about the same as an Earth year. I guess it makes sense. Planets need to have similar orbits in order to be habitable, I guess. It's kinda strange, though, how everyone all stands on two legs and has two arms and such. I always thought the universe would be more like the cantina in Star Wars."

"Star Wars?" the blonde woman said skeptically.

"Earth movie? Well, five, actually. The last one was gonna come out in theaters a year after I came to Topa, but LucasFilm didn't have any branches out here. So, I still gotta find out how Anakin becomes Vader, y'know?"

"No, I do not know," the black man said.

Willow cocked her head. "You two aren't big with showing your emotions, are you?"

"I am a Vulcan," the black man said. "My name is Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. My people learn from an early age to suppress our emotions in favor of a more logical perspective of the universe."

Willow nodded. "Right. So, Vulcans equal logic people. Voice of reason in the heat of heightened emotions, yeah?"

"Less often than would be ideal, but you are correct," Tuvok said with what might have been praise.

Willow turned to the woman now. "And what about you? Do you have any memories from before you were assimilated?"

"No," the blonde said too quickly. "I was assimilated at a young age. The Collective was all that I knew until Captain Janeway took me with her," she said bitterly.

Willow was confused. "So, are you all bent out of shape because you were assimilated as a kid, or because you were taken from the Borg against your will? Or maybe both? Because if that's the case, then you've been changed into something else twice now, and I can't imagine it's easy to go from human to Borg and back again. I'm so sorry for you."

The blonde looked at Willow with a look that seemed rather sad and pathetic. "Thank you," she said at last.

Willow smiled and hopped off the bed onto her feet. "For what?"

"For accepting me for what I am. Captain Janeway seems intent on molding me into the human she believes I should be. My own feelings in the matter are irrelevant."

"But you have feelings," Willow pointed out. "Borg drones don't. Do you want to give up your feelings?"

The blonde woman looked doubtful. "I don't know."

Willow walked over and took the woman's metal-latticed hand in her own. "Well, I'll try to help you out if I can. What's your name?"

The blonde looked at Willow with that same look of adulation that made the witch's stomach feel all churny. "My designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. But you may call me Seven of Nine."

Willow felt her heart go out to Seven of Nine. "You don't use your birth name?"

"I don't remember that person. Seven of Nine is all that I am," she said simply.

"Oh. Well, in that case, Seven of Nine it is. Kinda bulky on the tongue, but that's your name, so I'll try not to wear it out."

Seven nodded her head. "Thank you, Miss Rosenberg."

The red-haired witch smiled. "Please, call me Willow."

* * *

><p>"So, Doctor, what do you make of Miss Rosenberg?" Janeway asked her CMO.<p>

"More than I would like, Captain," he said as he pulled up a visual display of her blood. "Her blood cells seem to be those of a perfectly healthy human woman in her mid-twenties, though she lacks several antibodies that have been introduced into the human genome over the past few centuries. Synthesizing the necessary antibodies and vaccines shouldn't be a problem."

"But that's not what has you worried, is it, Doctor?"

"I'm afraid not. When I first scanned her, I thought there had to be something wrong with my tricorder. But then I took a closer look." He pressed a button and the screen zoomed in on a red blood cell down until they were looking at strands of DNA. "This is something I never expected to find."

"My God!" Janeway was horrified by what she was seeing. "Omega! It's a part of her. Part of her DNA. How is this possible, Doctor?"

"That's not the only impossible thing, Captain," Torres said. Look at it closer. Look at the molecules."

Janeway looked again. "What are you trying to say, B'Elanna?"

"The molecules, Captain. They're the very model of what Omega should be. They're _stable_, Captain."

"What?" Janeway looked again, and sure enough, it was the textbook model of an Omega molecule in its stable form. "This isn't possible."

"Whether or not it's possible, we now have a problem," the Doctor said gravely. "The Omega Directive."

"You mean that order that says we have to destroy this stuff no matter what?" Paris asked. "We'd have to kill her. That's not an option."

"As you were, Lieutenant," Janeway said coldly, her eyes not leaving the screen. "A lifeform made up of Omega molecules is something nobody in Starfleet ever anticipated. And if that bout of telekinesis was an example of her drawing on Omega's power… What if she can use that power to help us? What if we can use that power to get home?"

"And then what?" Torres challenged. "The moment Starfleet learns about her, they'll kill her. She hasn't done anything, Captain. You want us to lie to her and have her help us only to have her be sentenced to death if we ever make it home?"

Janeway steeled herself, realizing that this was a very precarious issue. "That will be for Starfleet Command to decide. And as you said, that's i_if_/i we make it home with her. Not when." The Captain sighed. "I'll need to speak with Seven of Nine about this. She knows more about Omega than anyone else on this ship. She'll be able to tell if there's any risk of Omega destabilizing. Unless we learn that's possible, I think we should vaccinate her and make her feel at home."

"Captain," the Doctor said. "Seven's feelings towards Omega border on worship. How can you be sure she'll cooperate with you? Especially given that the molecules are stable?"

"Because no one in this room is going to tell her what's likely to become of Miss Rosenberg if this all ends well. Starfleet might see her as an exception, and I'll try to persuade them, but I have my doubts." But all the same, this conversation doesn't leave this room. Understood?"

Thankfully, her senior staff had learned by now not to argue with Janeway once her mind was set. "Yes, Captain," the Doctor said.

"I don't like this," Tom said.

"I don't really like it either," Torres said.

"You don't have to like it," Janeway said coldly. "You just have to keep your mouths shut. If you speak of this to anyone, I'll have you and anyone you tell thrown in the brig. Am I clear?"

Paris nodded silently while B'Elanna set her jaw. "Crystal clear, Captain."

* * *

><p>Willow Rosenberg was not at all what Seven had been expecting of a goddess. But then, that was a term used out of ignorance. It was rapidly becoming clear that Willow was just as human as anyone else. More so than others, it seemed, given her acceptance of Seven and her lack of insistence on her changing who she was.<p>

"What?" Willow asked. "You're looking at me all funny, Seven of Nine."

There was another thing that Seven appreciated about Willow. She didn't insist on abbreviating her name. Unfortunately, she had to admit that she had become accustomed to the abbreviation. "If you wish," she said reluctantly, "you may call me 'Seven.' The rest of the crew does."

Willow looked at her strangely. "Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"Yes. The meaning is clear, and there is no malicious intent. Shortening my name is more efficient," she conceded.

The self-proclaimed witch smiled widely at her words. "All right, then! Seven it is! And you still haven't told me why you're looking at me with that strange look on your face."

Seven narrowed her eyes a bit. "Do you not hold me responsible for my actions as a drone?"

"Why should I?" Willow said, looking taken aback. "That would be like hating the people who turned into Cybermen for all of the deleting and upgrading and such."

"Cybermen?" Tuvok inquired. "You have had contact with other cybernetic lifeforms, Miss Rosenberg?"

"Uh, no. Not unless you count watching episodes of Doctor Who. And I heard they were gonna make a new series, too. I wish I could have seen it."

"Cybermen are a fictitious species?" Seven asked.

"Yup! It's kinda what makes the Borg so scary. Not that you're scary, Seven. You're not a Borg anymore. I mean, you're kinda Borg, but you're kinda not. I mean, you're not a drone, but you still have Borg tech in you, and you still think of yourself as Seven of Nine, right? It'd be kinda silly to expect you to act like every other human, wouldn't it? But you're not responsible for what the Borg Hive Mind chooses to do."

Seven felt a warmth in her chest that she hadn't felt before, but she enjoyed the feeling. Willow had just said what she had been feeling ever since she had come onto _Voyager_, though Seven herself had never found the words to say so herself. Was Omega giving her this insight? Or did it have to be with Willow being from a different time?

Captain Janeway and the others emerged from the Doctor's office. "Your blood work is about what we expected, Miss Rosenberg," the Doctor said. "You are lacking a number of antibodies that have come into the human genome over the past few centuries, and you need a number of vaccinations. It's not a terribly lengthy process, but I'll have to ask you to remain here for the next few hours until we can get you ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?" Willow asked nervously.

"For the trip home," Janeway said. "We'll be taking you with us, but I have to warn you that it may take years to get back to Earth. This is one of the fastest ships that Starfleet has ever built, but we were pulled across the galaxy by an alien force. I won't lie; our latest estimates place our voyage at a little under sixty years."

"Oh." Willow clearly wanted to return to Earth, even if Seven didn't. After being away for so long, it was only natural, she supposed.

"Well, now that that's taken care of, I need to get back to work. Doctor, Mister Paris, can you handle things here?"

"We'll be fine, Captain," the Doctor said as he readied a hypospray.

"I would like to remain as well," Seven said. Regardless of Omega's presence, Seven felt a need to be close to Willow. The other woman understood her, she felt, on a level that no one else did.

Janeway crossed her arms. "I'd hoped to have a word with you, Seven. Now."

Seven glared at Janeway, clasping her hands behind her back. "I have not been given any time not designated for work, nutritional consumption, or regeneration, Captain. No other crewmember has such restrictions, and I am not a member of Starfleet."

The Captain looked taken aback. "This has never been an issue before."

"It is now," Seven protested.

"Hey," Willow said. "Uh, I don't wanna cause any trouble or anything, but if Seven hasn't been given any free time since she got here, then that's kind of a jerk thing to do, isn't it? And if she wants to take a bit of time now, then I could use the company. It's good to have a friendly face to get acquainted with the future."

"Friendly?" B'Elanna asked incredulously. "If you say so. I'll be in Engineering. Captain," she said as she exited Sickbay. The chief engineer seemed a bit colder than usual.

"She is friendly!" Willow protested. "She's been really nice to me. So have you, Tuvok. I gotta admire someone who can keep a cool head in the face of fire. That used to be me a while back. Still is sometimes. But Tuvok wears your uniform. Seven doesn't. Why do you wear that outfit anyway, Seven? It doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Seven didn't understand the nature of Willow's question, but Lieutenant Paris's restrained laughter told her that he, at least, understood. "The Doctor designed my garments," she said simply.

Willow turned to the Doctor. "You've got a dirty mind, you know that, Doc? Let's get her some clothes that she can get out of if she has to pee or something. And are those stilettos? Really? Not really practical, are they?"

Seven scowled, remembering Mister Neelix pushing her earlier. "They impair my balance."

"Well, then! Buffy schooled me well in the art of Retail Therapy, so I'll try to help you out, Seven. I'm sure you have all sorts of captain-y things to be doing, so don't let me get in your way," Willow said brightly.

Seven looked to Janeway, who seemed at a loss for words. "All right, then. Seven, see me first thing after you finish regenerating."

That was acceptable. "Yes, Captain."

"Well, then, carry on," Janeway said as she and Tuvok left the room.

"Well, that was certainly entertaining," the Doctor said. "Just try to hold still and relax. Some of these injections can make you a bit light-headed and nauseous. I promise it won't last very long."

"Uh, okay," Willow said, and Seven was surprised to find her hand enclosed in the redhead's. Did Willow really derive comfort from her presence? Seven knew how she felt, but why would any human feel any sort of comfort around a former drone?

Willow seemed to notice her unease. "Everything okay, Seven?" she asked cheerfully.

Seven shook her head. "I don't know."

"Well, do me a favor and stay with me while I get all vaccinated. And I apologize in advance if I get all sick on your… Whatever it is you're wearing. Has anyone ever told you that you are exceptionally beautiful, Seven?"

The statement took her by surprise. "Beauty is irrelevant," she said somewhat defensively.

Willow merely smiled. "Keep telling yourself that," she said mysteriously. "Keep telling yourself that."

* * *

><p>In case I neglected to mention it, I don't own Star Trek or Buffy, nor do I own Doctor Who or Star Wars.<p>

Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter.


	3. Emotions

**Chapter Three: Emotions**

* * *

><p>"Well, Miss Rosenberg, you seem fit to move about, but I wouldn't recommend eating anything for another hour. And be wary of Mister Neelix's cooking. It's been known to cause digestive problems."<p>

"I have been duly warned," the red-haired woman said happily. Seven found herself transfixed by Willow, and she was feeling things that she didn't recognize. They weren't bad, necessarily, but they were unknown. Seven didn't like not knowing things about herself. Or about anything, really.

"I'll escort you to your quarters," Lieutenant Paris said. "I'm also a bit of a history buff, so maybe we can chat about what's not exactly history to you."

Willow laughed, and the sound made Seven feel warm in places she didn't know could be warm. "Sounds like a plan. You wanna come with, Seven?"

The ex-drone looked up. "Please restate your inquiry," she said softly.

Willow looked rather sad. "I just wanted to know if you wanted to come with me to my quarters. You know, help me get settled in? You guys are like the first people I know here, and I want us to be friends."

Seven didn't know what to make of that statement. Others in the crew had offered her sympathies and an occasional kind word, but aside from Ensign Kim's incomprehensible infatuation, no one had wanted to be anything resembling Seven's friend. "Perhaps I can join you later," she suggested.

That seemed to make Willow feel better. "All right, then! You cheer up, okay, Seven? I'll see you around. And thanks for everything, Doctor. And, um, sorry about throwing up so many times."

"It's quite all right," the Doctor said patiently. "You handled yourself admirably considering the situation."

"High praise indeed," Paris said with a grin. "Shall we?" he said to Willow.

With a smile and a laugh, Willow exited sickbay with Lieutenant Paris.

The Doctor turned to Seven. "is there anything you need, Seven? Nothing wrong with your implants, I hope?"

"No, Doctor. I require your assistance in another matter."

The hologram put down his instruments and walked over to give Seven his full attention. "What sort of assistance do you need?"

"I require your advice, and your confidentiality, Doctor."

"Of course. As long as you aren't a threat to yourself or to others, you can feel free to confide in me. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

"Willow," Seven said simply.

"Are you afraid of her?" the Doctor asked kindly. "Because she's destroyed Borg before? Or because she might be tied to Omega?"

"She is tied to Omega, Doctor. I don't know how, but she is. The molecule appeared on the sensors at the exact moment that Willow awakened from stasis. A coincidence is highly improbable."

"Maybe so," the Doctor conceded. "But are you afraid of her?"

Seven wasn't sure how she felt in that respect. "I don't know. I feel something. I want to understand her. But I don't know if it is Willow I want to understand or if it is Omega. Or possibly both. She has shown me consideration and kindness that no other crewmember has given me. I am uncertain how to respond to such gestures. They make me feel unusual."

"Unusual? Can you be more specific?"

Seven inhaled and steeled herself. "When she talks to me, I feel warm. It is a physical warmth in my chest, and to a lesser extent in the area between my legs. It is an alien sensation. I don't understand it."

"Hm." The Doctor paused before answering any further. "Well, Seven, I'd say that you feel attracted to Miss Rosenberg. Whether that attraction is platonic, romantic, or sexual is for you to determine."

Seven was shocked. "Romance and sex are irrelevant."

The Doctor chuckled. "Most humans believe that at some point in their lives. Usually during their younger years. You never got to grow up as a normal human, so you're understandably coming into your womanhood a bit late. Whether it is friendship you want with Willow, or if it's something more, it's a deeply personal experience for anyone involved. And considering that she's a charming young woman with a pretty face, it's perfectly understandable for you to feel an attraction to her."

"But, that doesn't make any sense, Doctor," Seven protested. "Sexual attraction is between two members of opposing genders. Otherwise, sexual reproduction would be unviable."

The Doctor smiled sadly and placed a hand on Seven's shoulder. "What the body needs and what the heart wants are often two entirely separate things. Just because something isn't essential for survival doesn't mean it can't help you to live a fulfilling life."

"I do not understand, Doctor," Seven said carefully. "But, I would like to."

The Doctor smiled. "That's a good start. Why don't we see where things go from there."

* * *

><p>"So," Tom said to Willow, "this is <em>Voyager.<em> Fifteen decks, crew complement of about a hundred fifty, give or take, and one sweet thing to fly."

"You're the pilot?" Willow asked. Tom thought she was a nice woman. Spoke her mind a bit too freely, kind of like Seven, but she had some charm and tact to balance that out.

"That I am. Flying is my passion, though I do like to take the wheel of a Camaro every once in a while."

"You drive a Chevy?" Willow asked, clearly not buying it. "In space. You drive a Chevy in space. Not seeing how that's happening."

Tom laughed. "It's a holodeck program. Sort of a place where we can escape into fantasy for a little while."

"But you actually drive. So, it's like a movie theater, only you jump into the part instead of watching it, right?"

"Yes! Exactly! Finally, someone who understands 20th century terminology. If I wasn't with B'Elanna…" Tom trailed off, fearing for his life if the aforementioned chief engineer found out what he'd just let slip.

"Oh?" Willow asked teasingly, stopping to raise a mischievous eyebrow. "If you weren't with B'Elanna, what?"

"Um… If I wasn't with her, then I'd be a lesser man than I am today," Tom said with finality.

Willow chuckled. "I can believe that, Lieutenant Paris."

"Please, call me Tom. You don't report to me, and I don't report to you, so there's no need why we can't be on first name basis, right?"

"Sure. No problemo," Willow said. "So, I know you're a lieutenant, but how do I tell what someone else's rank is? I mean, if I'm gonna be here a while, then I don't wanna be rude or improper or anything. I mean, this is a military ship, after all."

Tom felt his stomach churn at being described as part of a military. "Well," he said, trying to answer her question first, "the two pips on my collar here mark me a lieutenant."

"Why is one of them gold and one of them black?"

Tom winced. "A single gold pip means you're an Ensign. Two gold pips makes you a full lieutenant. I'm a junior grade lieutenant, which is between the two."

"Ah, gotcha. So, two gold pips is a Lieutenant, and one black pip equals Diet Lieutenant. Okay."

"Did you just compare me to root beer?" Tom asked indignantly.

"Nope! I just compared you to cola. Not a big fan of root beer, personally," Willow said entirely too cheerfully.

Tom couldn't help but laugh. Willow did have charm. "So, we're on Deck Five, but you'll be staying on Deck Eight. There's crew quarters there, along with the Astrometrics Lab and Cargo Bay Two. Tuvok had you assigned to Deck Twelve, but I think you'd do better on Deck Eight."

"Why's that? There a big difference?"

"Well, it's just that… It's Seven. She's still new here, and she's not the easiest person for most people to get along with. But you seem to like her, and she seems to actually want to spend time with you. So, I figured it would be best to put you two close together. You okay with that?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, that's good. That's fine. I just don't know if it's me that she likes or if it's something else."

Tom stopped to call the turbolift, and he realized he'd have to tread carefully here. He didn't know how much Willow knew about Omega. "What else would she like?" Tom asked as genuinely as he could fake it.

"My power," Willow said simply. "There was someone before, back home. We were close, or so I thought. But it turned out my power was the really fascinating thing. Willow wasn't enough, it had to be Witchy Willow. I even got called a goddess after one particular spell. Although, that one was kind of a world-changer. And I don't even know if this is my world or not. I mean, my own dimension or reality or whatever. Do you guys have shrimp?"

Tom was trying to keep up with the implications of what the small young woman next to him was saying when the turbolift arrived. "Deck Eight," he said once they were both inside. "Uh, yeah. We have shrimp. And I didn't know that people in the twentieth century had the power to cross dimensions. It's a rarity here and now, and usually it's by accident."

"Oh. Well, I didn't open the portal that brought me here. The Topara did that. But I accidentally pulled a not-so-nice version of myself out of another dimension once. She caused some trouble before I sent her back. That was really creepy."

"Yeah…" Tom was getting less comfortable by the minute. The way Willow casually discussed such feats of power was frightening. "So, you do magic. I forget who it was that said it about technology, but…"

"Arthur C. Clarke is the guy, and the exact words are, if I recall, 'any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.' Well, I can tell you that I don't use technology to do anything, though I do use a few certain items for a ritual here and there."

Tom chuckled to hide his nervousness. "I would ask you how, but my experience tells me that a magician never reveals his – or her – secrets."

Willow laughed as they exited the turbolift. "You must be the resident funnyman. I'm not a magician. I'm a witch. Big difference. I don't do parlor tricks. I do spells. And thankfully, the future is a lot more tolerant of people being different than they are – were – in my time. Well, unless _Voyager _is out here on a mission of the not-so-nice kind. Does Earth have any big enemies out this way? I mean, other than the Borg?"

"Willow!" Tom protested, "the Federation is _not_ an aggressive power. Our ships are designed with exploration in mind. The focus is on the sensors and the scientific equipment, not the weapons."

"But you do have weapons, don't you?" Willow countered. "For strictly defensive purposes, right?"

"You don't sound very convinced of that," Tom said gravely.

"I'm not. And quite frankly, if you believe that weapons should only be used as a defense, that's only kinda true. The bad guys aren't always gonna be nice and let you pick the battlefield. Sometimes it's better to go on the offensive before things get out of hand later on. You wait for the bad guys to throw the first stone, and they'll take their time and build up their forces until they're ready to overwhelm you."

Tom felt his face go even paler. "You talk like you've had experience with war."

Willow smiled enigmatically. "I do, don't I?"

Tom cleared his throat as they came to a door. "Well, um, here you are. This is where you'll be staying, Willow." He pressed a button and the door slid open. "Computer, lights," he said, and the lights turned on.

Willow seemed impressed. "Nifty. Everything's all voice activated in the future. And is this the computer? It's all touch pads! This is so cool!"

Tom couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter at the sudden childish glee that the self-proclaimed witch was now displaying. "Yeah, it's not that hard to figure out. This is the replicator, which can give you food or clothing, but don't use it too much. We need to save power when we can, since we are not out here looking for a fight. We were taken far away from home, and now we're on the long journey back. We didn't choose to be out here, so cut us all a bit of slack."

"Oh." Willow slouched and seemed rather small. "Well, that was smooth, Rosenberg. Accuse the nice future-people of being militaristic pigs while they give you a lift home while being just as stranded as you."

Tom smiled and put a hand on Willow's shoulder. He couldn't help but see her as a kid in some ways, even though she looked to be almost thirty. "Don't worry about it. Just take some time to get to know us, and we'll take some time to get to know you, okay?"

Willow nodded. "Sounds good. But, uh, what do I do if I need help? How do I call one of you? Are there telephones on board?"

"Not telephones, but we do have combadges," he said, fingering his own. "A tap along with your name and the person you're trying to reach opens the signal. This is also how you find someone you're looking for. If you ask the computer to locate someone, it'll find their combadge and tell you where they are."

"Ah, I see. So, future cell phones are lojacked as well. Gotcha."

Tom knew what a cell phone was, but the term 'lojack' was one he didn't know. Was it someone's attempt to make an opposite to a hijack?

Willow interrupted his train of thought. "Can the computer in my room also communicate with you guys, since I don't have one of those nifty badges yet?"

"Yeah, that it can do. It can also give you directions to the mess hall, which is a public area. You'll need an escort to go anywhere else, at least until we get you acclimated. And this trip could take a lifetime, so it's not like we're going to run out of time."

"If the trip is gonna take so long, you and B'Elanna had better make with baby-making soon."

"What?" Where had _that_ come from?

"I mean, you're gonna need a new generation of people to operate the ship once the current crew gets all old and wrinkly, right? So, unless there's a bunch of kids hanging around that I just haven't seen, then two lovers really shouldn't keep the needs of the ship waiting, y'know?"

"Oh." _That actually makes a surprising amount of sense._ "You do have a point, I guess. It's just that I never expected to be a father anytime soon."

"What about a medic? Isn't it strange that the only other guy besides the Doctor available to help a patient is the pilot? Don't you have a medical staff? And if not, can't you train one?"

"Another excellent point to which I would like to say, 'we have that covered,' but we really don't. You should talk to the Captain. You have some sharp instincts."

"Sharp instincts? Me? Uh, no. No, I don't think so. Common sense, yes. Sharp instincts? That's more Slayer territory than it is mine."

"Slayer? What's a Slayer?" Tom asked.

"A Slayer is a tale for another day," Willow said. "Right now, I'm gonna try to get comfy and see if I can find something to eat from the replicator thingy. Oh! Before I forget, you said Seven lives on this deck. Are her quarters close by?"

Tom didn't think Willow was going to like the answer he had to give if he was going to be truthful. "Seven doesn't have quarters. Her alcove is in Cargo Bay Two."

Willow frowned. "The cargo bay? As in the place where you keep all your junk that you're not using. That's where Seven _lives_?"

Tom held up his hands defensively. "Biological and technological necessity, nothing more."

"Well, why did you install an alcove in the cargo bay in the first place? Why didn't you set one up in some quarters for her? She's not a thing, you know."

"I do know that, Willow! I do. It's just that we didn't have much choice in the matter. The Borg put the alcoves there, not us."

Willow began to walk forward towards him, and in spite of his superior height and apparent muscle mass, he felt himself retreating from her. "The Borg installed some of their alcoves on your ship. How did you fight them off? Tell me about how you rescued Seven from them."

Tom felt a cold sweat start to form on his brow. "Well, when we came to the edge of Borg space, we tried to find a way through, but the only way was infested by invading aliens who were a threat to the Borg, and they weren't friendly towards anyone else, either. So, Captain Janeway gave the Borg a weapon to fight the invaders in exchange for safe passage."

The door to Willow's quarters closed behind him, and the lights dimmed. If he didn't know any better, Tom would have said a gust of wind began to blow in the room.

"Your Captain formed an alliance with the Borg? Not under duress, but fully aware of what she was doing?" Willow accused darkly.

"Um, yes. And Seven of Nine was sort of a spokesdrone for the Borg. She tried to assimilate the ship once the aliens were beaten, but we disconnected her from the Collective. And it hasn't always been easy for her, Willow. She was in a bad place for a while. Wanted to go back to the Borg, if you can believe that."

"Oh, I can believe it," she said darkly, and Tom could have sworn that her eyes went black. And was her hair turning black as well? "After being a Borg for her whole life, why would she want to go with strangers into an unfamiliar life? You're telling me that she didn't, and you forced her to stay with you. Tell me if I'm wrong, Lieutenant," Willow sneered, mocking his rank.

"Nothing I could help, I swear," Tom said, now afraid for his life. "These are the Captain's decisions. I'm just the pilot and occasional medic, I swear. Please, I swear I'll-"

"Silence."

"…" Tom felt his mouth move, and he could feel his vocal cords moving as well, but no sound escaped his lips.

"Thicken."

The air around Tom closed in around him, and he couldn't move. Damn, but she really was a witch, and this was really magic! And she was mad. Oh, what had he done?"

The lights brightened a bit, and Tom saw that Willow's hair was indeed black, as were her eyes. "Computer," she said, her back to Tom, "do you have records of the events of _Voyager's_ travels?"

The computer chirped. "_Voyager's_ computer contains navigational log entries, officers' log entries, and personal log entries."

"Can I access that information, computer?"

"That information is restricted. Personal access codes are required."

"Well, well. Password protected, are you? I haven't hacked anything in a while, so I may as well get back into practice."

She turned back to face Tom, and he felt a wave of cold fear. "But I can't have you here remembering all of this so you can tattle on me. Forget," Willow said, and Tom suddenly wondered where he was and how he had gotten there.

"Sleep."

The next thing Tom knew, his door chime was waking him up out of bed. "Yes? What is it?"

The door opened to reveal a very huffy B'Elanna. "Did you forget about our dinner plans? Or did you just have too much _fun_ with the new girl that you were too tired to stand up straight?"

"B'Elanna, that's not what happened, I swear," he said, getting out of bed, still wearing his uniform. "I just… I just… Computer, what time is it?"

"The time is 1700 hours and fourteen minutes."

Tom shot up straight. "Willow left Sickbay at just before 1400! How did I… What happened?"

"I don't know, Tom. You tell me what happened?" B'Elanna challenged, her arms folded across her chest.

Tom felt a headache coming on. He knew without a doubt that there was no one scarier than B'Elanna Torres when she was angry. Or if there was, he sure as hell didn't remember them.


	4. Letting Loose

**Chapter Four: Letting Loose**

* * *

><p>Willow was angry. Angry, hurt, frustrated, and more than a bit confused. Despite her considerable computer skills, the system that she was trying to hack was just too far outside of her experience. She had calmed down a bit since banishing Tom back to his quarters, and a glimpse of her reflection told her that she'd gone way too far.<p>

She'd let her emotions get the better of her. Again. How long had she spent in England trying to learn control? And how long had she been afraid to use magic because of the potential to do wrong? What had changed to cause such a strong reaction in her?

A beautiful face with blonde hair came into Willow's mind, and she cursed herself for her idiocy. Seven of Nine was hot, there was no denying that. And there was the whole sympathy-for-the-victim thing that she was feeling as well. Seven had been assimilated twice now, as best as she could tell. Once by the Borg, and once by _Voyager._Not that she thought that the people here had been wrong to take Seven from the Borg. The Borg were terrible, and rescuing one was generally of the good. But keeping Seven here against her will – hoping she would become more like the people here – Willow couldn't help but see that as Borg-like.

_Okay, Rosenberg. You can't access the logs. Not unless you suck them out of the computer with magic, and that's something you shouldn't be doing right on the heels of a brainwashing._Willow winced at her own inner monologue, and she was grateful to see her reflection in the computer screen turn to one with red hair again. She needed to come clean about that. But would these people ever trust her? Would they lock her up? She'd be able to get out without a problem, but that would take some darker magicks, and that was not something she should be doing.

A chime of some sort sounded throughout the room. Willow got up and looked around for the source until it happened again. "Uh, Computer," she said hesitantly, "what was that sound?"

"The door chime to this room has been activated."

"Oh! Thank you. Uh, can you open the door, computer?"

The door slid open to reveal a grumpy-looking woman with forehead ridges that Willow remembered from the sickbay. "Uh, hi. Can I help you?" Willow said somewhat hesitantly.

"Maybe," the other woman said with quiet hostility. "I don't suppose you know who I am?"

"Uh, sorry! I remember you in sickbay earlier. You had on a different kinda uniform than you have on now, and you didn't believe Seven of Nine could be friendly. I didn't catch your name though, uh…" Willow looked at her collar and found an unusual rank insignia there. "Sorry. Tom tried to teach me the rank identifier thingies, but I don't recognize yours."

"So it's 'Tom,' is it? Not just 'Lieutenant Paris?'" she challenged.

"Oh," Willow said, realization dawning. "You must be B'Elanna. And you're probably here wondering where Tom's been."

"You can call me Lieutenant Torres, if it's all the same," the grumpy-looking woman said, inviting herself into Willow's room. Willow was relieved that she wasn't a vampire. "And yes, I was wondering what Tom had gotten himself into."

"Oh." Willow felt rather scared about confessing to this rather domineering woman, but she supposed that Lieutenant Torres of all people deserved to know first. But before that, "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. But, um, this may sound weird, but how do I tell what your rank thingy means? Are there other lieutenants without the two little pips?"

Torres laughed a mirthless laugh. "Just what's left of the Maquis. And don't sidestep the issue. What. Happened. Here?"

Willow felt herself back further into the room towards the bed, feeling distinctly afraid. A niggling little voice in the back of her mind told her that she could take control of this situation with a thought, but that was the last thing that Willow wanted to do after what she'd done to Tom.

"Well," she began, "Tom was taking me here and giving me a bit of a history lesson about _Voyager's_, uh, voyage, I guess. A-and, since he knows some stuff about my time, we were able to talk about some of that stuff. He helped make me feel a little more at home and a little less lost."

"How wonderful," Torres said, not sounding very happy at all. Her arms were crossed in a definitely hostile manner.

"B-but nothing inappropriate happened! Well, it did, but not what you're probably thinking. I don't know what you're thinking, but I think I know what you're thinking. A-and, I think you're thinking that we got all cozy together and such, but we didn't! See? Bed hasn't been touched yet."

"What about the floor?" Torres said, not missing a beat.

"The floor? Uh, we walked on it? But, that's not the bad stuff. And there is bad stuff, but it's all my fault. Tom did nothing wrong at all. I'm the one who messed up royally. And you probably deserve to know first, since Tom loves you, and I'm guessing you love him, and I don't want to mess things up between you two at all."

"Oh, you don't, do you?"

"I don't! I swear! It's just that he got to telling me about the whole 'let's make a deal with the Borg' thing, and that got me really pissed. I mean, who makes a deal with the Borg? And then that led to me finding out how you rescued Seven, which was all good and everything, but then I found that she was kept here against her will, and that kinda got me thinking that Captain Janeway was pulling a Borg on Seven, and that got me really angry, and I lost control." Willow plopped down on her bed, sitting up but slouched over, feeling distinctly ashamed.

"You hurt Tom?" Torres accused. "What. Did. You. Do?" she said, advancing on Willow with each step.

"Um…" Willow was torn between terror and shame. "Well, I was really angry, so I tried to, um, hack into the logs to find out the gaps in the story Tom told me. But I realized that he'd probably report me and get me in trouble, so I made him forget about it, and then I put him to sleep and sent him back to his quarters."

"You _what_?" Torres seemed partially angry, but also partially confused. "How could you possibly do that?"

"Magic?" Willow offered in what she hoped was a helpful voice. "And I shouldn't have, really! It was a stupid thing to do, and it was really bad, too. Tom's a really good person, and you're lucky to have him. A-and he thinks he's lucky to be with you, too. I just… I remember when the Borg appeared over Topa, and they told us what they were going to do. And when I stopped them the second time, I looked into the Collective's mind for a moment. It was just a moment, but it was enough to learn more than I ever wanted to learn. The thought of someone, anyone, allying themselves with such evil… I guess I went over the edge," Willow said in a small voice.

* * *

><p>Torres stood where she was, towering over Rosenberg, with her arms crossed for maximum intimidation, but inwardly, the chief engineer was beginning to feel a lot of mixed emotions. Terror being chief among them. The stories that the Topara had told about this woman, her telekinesis back in sickbay, and Omega in her DNA all pointed to someone with way too much power. And now she had confessed to losing control and wiping Tom's memories while she tried to hack the ship's computers!<p>

But besides all of that, Rosenberg resembled nothing so much as a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar at the moment. She clearly felt remorse. It could all be an act, and she might even be manipulating B'Elanna's thoughts to think this way. But B'Elanna didn't think that was the case, whatever that was worth.

And then there were her feelings regarding the Borg and Janeway's idiotic alliance with them. B'Elanna knew some people who thought that Species 8472 was the greater threat, but in hindsight, they had only been defending themselves against the Borg. It was so much easier to second guess things after they had happened. Still, B'Elanna hadn't liked the decision when it was made anymore than she had when the situation was over.

"You won't get any argument from me about the alliance with the Borg," she said after a good few moments of silent thought. "But it wasn't quite as simple as 'help the Borg to get ourselves home.' At least, it didn't seem that way at the time. Some people felt that Species 8472 would have come after the rest of the galaxy after they were done with the Borg."

Rosenberg looked up at that, and her eyes were wet with tears. "They were that powerful, huh?"

"They were," Torres said in her most professional voice. "We had a telepath on board who they communicated through. She's not with us anymore, but she thought that they meant to destroy everything. I honestly don't know if she could be trusted to make that call, but I don't believe Kes ever meant to deceive us. She was a sweet kid, but she was just a kid in the end. I don't know what decision I would have made, but then, I'm not the Captain."

Rosenberg nodded slowly, as if trying to take in this new information. _Poor girl probably feels so lost. Still, she's powerful, and her story adds up with what happened with Tom. The computer can probably verify some of it._

"What about Seven?" Rosenberg asked softly, not looking up at B'Elanna. "Tom said that she wanted to go back to the Borg, but that Janeway wouldn't let her. A-and that this wasn't while she was still a drone, but after she'd been cut off from the Collective. Not that the Borg are good or anything, but isn't holding someone against their will kinda bad?"

Now B'Elanna dropped her arms to her sides and softened her facial muscles. She hated Seven, and she wasn't going to apologize for it. She wanted the Borg off the ship and away from her engine room. Somehow, despite Seven's own attempt to contact the Collective when she had first been rescued, B'Elanna had never thought about Seven's own feelings in that matter. _That's assuming she has feelings._

"I'm not the right person to ask about that," she said neutrally. "You'd have to talk to Seven herself. Cargo Bay Two is just down the hall. The big double doors on your left." B'Elanna took a breath. "I am going to have to report what you did to Tom to the Captain, you know."

Rosenberg just nodded, seeming resigned to her fate. "D'you think that there's a science-y way to prevent this from happening again? I dunno, maybe medicine has come far enough that it can block out telepathy?"

"I don't know about that," B'Elanna said, "but I'll give you credit for offering that up. I'll have to tell the Captain what you did, but I'll also tell her how you feel about it. She may confine you to quarters, or she may throw you in the brig. We haven't left Topa's orbit yet, so she might just leave you behind." A thought struck Torres. "Assuming you let us leave without you."

"Topa is a beautiful world, and the Topara are beautiful people. I could make a life there if I had to. It's just that my power originally came from the Earth. As in the planet Earth. And while I don't need that connection anymore to do things, there's a part of me that feels empty and incomplete without it. But being here, surrounded by people and things from back home… It makes it all not as bad, y'know? Topa is lovely, but I think I'd be lonely, being the only human there."

"I have to say," B'Elanna said, "you're awfully willing to accept punishment considering how powerful you are."

"That's exactly why I have to accept whatever punishment I'm dealt!" Rosenberg protested loudly, rising to her feet for the first time since she'd sat down. "If I'm left unchecked, if I just do whatever the hell I want, then nobody would be safe. If I abuse my power, I'm more likely to do it again. I have to accept that there are consequences, and that everything comes to an end eventually. I've done some stupid, selfish things with my power that I thought were all for everyone's benefit. I need people to keep me in check, Lieutenant Torres. If I'm given total freedom with my powers, no one will be safe."

_Tell me about it. You're made of Omega. That much of the stuff, you could end everything if something goes wrong._"Don't take this the wrong way, Miss Rosenberg, but I'm going to ask Tuvok to assign you a security detail."

"Oh, yes please! That's good! I need looking after. I don't want to hurt anyone by accident. A-and I don't know if a security team could stop me if I got really out of control, but… Oh! Tell them that if my hair starts to darken, if it starts to go from red to black, then they should knock me out if they can. Hair goes black, that's bad. If it goes white, that's probably a really good thing, and knocking me out would be not-so-good."

"Your hair changes color?" Torres asked speculatively. "Wait! Don't tell me. Magic, right?" she said with a strange smirk.

"Uh, yeah?"

"I see. Just one last thing. Do I need to worry about you stealing Tom away? I don't think so, but… Why are you laughing?" Torres asked dangerously.

"Sorry!" Rosenberg said. "It's just that I'm not the type to steal Tom away from you. I'm, uh, the kind of person who'd want to steal you away from him, y'see?"

"Oh." _Well, that was unexpected._"Do I need to worry about you attempting to seduce me?" Torres asked with a smirk.

"I don't think so," Rosenberg said with a genuine smile. "You two seem like a good fit. Just look after Tom. He reminds me a bit of Xander. He was my best friend back home. Sort of the goofball who doesn't know when he's sticking his foot in his mouth. Heart of gold, but not always completely there in the head. But it's all in an endearing sort of way, y'know?"

B'Elanna laughed at that. "That sounds like Tom. If you want to move about the ship, just stay here until the security team arrives. They'll signal you when they arrive, and they'll follow you when you leave your quarters. I can't say you don't scare me, Rosenberg, but you're a far cry from Q."

"Q? You mean the guy who makes James Bond's gadgets?"

Torres opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. "That's a long story that should wait for another day. Just take it as a complement that you're not quite as flashy as certain other powerful beings we've run into."

"Oh. Okay. And, uh, thanks for not beating me up, Lieutenant."

Torres made a display of crossing her arms again. "Just don't push it, okay?" she said in a not-quite hostile voice.

"Yeah! No pushing over here, no ma'am. Just waiting for the nice security people, and then maybe visiting Seven of Nine. I figure I should probably talk to her about everything she's gone through. I've been making some assumptions, and I should probably talk to the source if I want to get it all straight."

_Sharp kid. Has a good mind. Wouldn't mind her on my team if she knew anything about engines._"You do that. Just don't expect me to get all buddy-buddy with Seven anytime soon, and we'll be fine. And I think you should stay away from Tom for a while, too."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. And, yeah. Sorry about what I did. I can undo it, if you like?"

"No, I think you've done enough for one day, Rosenberg. I know you mean well, but let's try to keep things as simple as possible, okay?"

The redhead nodded. "Okay. And, uh, thanks again for not beating me up."

Torres laughed. "One free pass. Don't expect another one." _And it's not like I could hurt her if she didn't want to be hurt, anyway._"I need to head to the bridge now. So, stay here for a bit, and then we'll see how things go."

"Gotcha," Rosenberg said more confidently. "Waiting right here."

* * *

><p>Seven of Nine was making ready to regenerate for the next six hours. A few routine diagnostics of her alcove were necessary before she entered, but they would not take long. The regeneration would give her time to reflect on her feelings towards Willow. Seven felt drawn to her, there was no question of that. But she didn't know if it was a draw to Willow herself or to Omega, and Seven wasn't sure if that distinction even mattered. Was there even a distinction at all?<p>

Her combadge chirped. "Uh, Willow Rosenberg calling Seven of Nine. Are you there, Seven?"

The ex-drone huffed, feeling slightly exasperated, but she could not deny the sudden warmth that had inexplicably shot through her body. She tapped her badge. "This is Seven of Nine."

"Uh, hey! I was just wondering if you were able to talk for a bit. Just you and me. I was hoping to get to know you better, and there are some questions that I think only you can answer. I would have come by the cargo bay, but I didn't think there would be a doorbell or anything, and I didn't want to just barge in without knocking."

"You called me because you didn't want to disturb me by entering without permission?" Nobody else had extended that courtesy towards her before. The warmth in Seven's body increased, and it felt good.

"Uh, yeah. So, do you mind if I come over?"

Seven thought about the matter. Was she ready to face Willow directly again so soon? _Readiness is irrelevant,_ she thought with some surprise. _I want to see her._"I will await your arrival."

"Thanks! Uh, how do I hang up the phone?"

Seven sighed. She'd forgotten that Willow came from centuries in the past. "In the future, follow my lead. Seven of Nine out."

While she waited for Willow, Seven continued to run her diagnostics. She noticed that they were taking longer than usual, though there was nothing wrong with the computers that she could tell. _I am distracted,_ she realized. _My functions are impaired. Is Willow causing this?_What really worried Seven was that even if she was becoming less efficient, she almost enjoyed it.

The sound of the cargo bay doors opening drew Seven's attention as she clasped her hands behind her back. She arched a brow as she noticed two armed security guards flanking Willow and taking up positions outside the doors as Willow entered.

"Is something wrong?" Seven asked.

"Huh? Oh! You mean the guards. Uh, kinda, yeah. I lost my temper and used my powers kinda inappropriately. And, well, it had to do with you."

"With me?" Seven asked, quite surprised. "Explain."

Willow took a step back and looked down. "Well, it's just that Tom told me about how you first came to be on the ship. And, uh, I got the general impression that you didn't want to be here, and that you wanted to go back to the Borg, but you weren't allowed to. Not that I like the Borg or anything, but it's the only thing you knew, right? So I guess I felt bad for you that you had your choice in the matter taken away, and I overreacted."

Seven felt her heart start to beat faster than it normally did. "You became agitated on my behalf?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're stuck here, living in a cargo bay. You have to wear that ridiculous outfit without even the strange rank thing that the Maquis people have. Still not sure what that's all about, to be honest. But you're a person, Seven, and from what I can tell, you're not really treated like one. And that makes me feel bad for you."

Willow's words touched Seven more than she wanted to admit. Captain Janeway had been trying to school her in the ways of humanity, as if trying to make her into a human person. Seven did not believe that this would ever occur, but Willow was here, accepting her as a person all the same. "Do you see me as human, Willow?"

"Uh, well…" Willow looked awkward. "I mean, you do talk kinda mechanically, which I guess is natural from spending a lifetime as a Borg. But you have your own mind and free will and such. So, I'd say you're kinda part-human, part-Borg. But not the bad parts of being a Borg. Like, you're not trying to assimilate everyone, are you? You're just trying to make do from what I can tell, and it'd be kinda stupid to ask you to forget what you were for most of your life."

Seven could only nod her head. Why couldn't the rest of the crew understand the truth that Willow was speaking so plainly? Why couldn't the Captain understand this about her? Janeway meant well, Seven knew. She was probably a good mentor with regards to humanity, but Seven wasn't sure if that was what she wanted for herself.

"So, um, do you want to go back to being a drone?" Willow asked softly.

Seven felt a warm hand close around her fingers, and she felt her own hand automatically close around Willow's. It felt natural somehow. "I don't know. I do not feel like I belong here on _Voyager,_but I would only belong as a Borg if I were a drone. I have come to value my individuality, but I do not see myself as becoming fully human."

Willow smiled and looked up at her. "The two aren't mutually exclusive. You're an individual right now, even if you're sort of a Borg/human hybrid. That's not a bad thing. It makes you unique. There's probably very few people like you out there in the universe, if there are any at all. That makes you special, Seven."

Seven felt heat fill her cheeks, and she felt a need to look away. Despite that feeling she didn't want to look away from Willow's eyes. "Thank you," she said at last. "I feel that you are special as well, Willow."

"You do?" the redhead said eagerly. "Um, what is it about me that you see as special? I mean, is it me, or is it, well, my power?"

Now Seven did look away, though her hand still held Willow's. "I am uncertain. I feel drawn to you, Willow, but I don't understand why. You are unlike anyone I have ever encountered, but I do not know if these feelings are because of your personality or because you are tied to Omega."

"What? What's Omega?"

Seven turned to face Willow again, and was surprised to see the confusion on her face. "It is somehow a part of you. The Borg believe it to be a symbol of perfection. Starfleet views it with fear. Voyager's sensors detected the molecule at the same moment you emerged from stasis on the surface of Topa."

"The Borg think it's… You mean Particle 010. That's inside of me?"

"Yes," Seven said, surprised that Willow was using the Borg name for the molecule. "You know what it is?"

"Yeah, I do. I mean, when I touched the Collective's mind briefly, I saw their obsession with that molecule. And I could tell that there was a whole lot of power in it. It was like infinity and one all at the same time. I thought it was beautiful."

"But the Borg did not detect the molecule during either of their attempts to assimilate the Topara," Seven said more to herself than to Willow. "Which means that it came into being inside of you after you drove off the Borg. Did you…" Seven felt herself pale. "Did you create Omega inside of yourself?"

"I… I don't know," Willow said. "I don't feel that much different than I did. But I've had about three years after I healed from that experience to get used to things. That's in the form of four days per year for a lot of time, but still, it adds up."

Willow smiled softly and lifted the hand not holding Seven's hand to the ex-drone's cheek. She felt a sudden heat in her loins. "And you're not sure if you like me or what's inside of me, Seven?"

"I… I admire you greatly, Willow. You have treated me like no one else has. Looking at you, I feel things. I do not understand it. This warmth. It is strange to me, but I enjoy it." She tried to look away from Willow's green eyes, but she found she couldn't. "I have not enjoyed very many things in my life."

Willow put a finger to Seven's lip and made a 'shh' sound before stroking her face with one hand. "Do you enjoy this, Seven?" Willow asked softly.

She did. Seven liked the touch of Willow's skin on hers more than she wanted to admit. She felt her body responding in ways she could not control, and that loss of control frightened her greatly. "I do enjoy it," she admitted, fearing what would happen if she lied to Willow.

"I enjoy it too," Willow said with a smile. "I don't know what your limits are, so tell me if you want me to stop, okay?"

Seven heard Willow, but she knew what her answer was. "Don't stop," she said softly, her eyes fluttering closed at Willow's gentle caresses.

"As you wish, Seven," she heard Willow say a moment before she felt a pair of lips touch her own.

Seven knew that she had lost control when she felt her own lips responding. She didn't know what she was doing, but it felt right. She wrapped her arms around Willow's body and held her close, her body acting of its own accord. She had never felt passion like this, but it felt so good.

In that moment, Seven knew that she belonged to Willow in a way that the Borg and Starfleet could never have her. As she felt pleasure course through her like nothing ever had, Seven found herself feeling a sense of contentment like never before. And still, she wanted more.

Seven could not stop herself. She did not want to. Resistance was futile.


	5. Fallout

**Chapter Five: Fallout**

* * *

><p>Kathryn Janeway liked to think of herself as a fair-minded woman. For every action, there was a consequence. Some of those consequences were negative, and needed to be discouraged. Willow Rosenberg was quickly shaping up to be a problem that needed to be dealt with. The actual process of dealing with her would be the hard part.<p>

Janeway's options regarding Rosenberg were very limited, and those limitations were disturbing. Her confession of casually erasing Tom's memories was chilling enough in that she spoke of the deed as if it were nothing, if B'Elanna was to be believed. On the one hand, Janeway's chief engineer had told her that Rosenberg seemed truly remorseful, and had even offered up the idea of blocking telepathy. On the other hand, that could all have been planted in B'Elanna's mind.

They had left Topa a few hours ago, after Rosenberg had said her goodbyes. The Topara had been as gracious as they had been during their first meeting, and they had urged Janeway to take care of their Guardian. The Captain found the notion somewhat laughable. She would have left the woman behind, but with her actually i_being_/i Omega, that wasn't possible without killing her. And even then, there was no guarantee that killing Rosenberg wouldn't cause the Omega molecules within her to destabilize and destroy the entire galaxy, if not more.

The Doctor had given Janeway a drug meant to screen against telepaths, and B'Elanna had replicated a device with a similar purpose designed for diplomatic missions with telepaths. And now, Willow Danielle Rosenberg stood in front of Janeway's desk, looking like nothing save a misbehaving student being called to the principal's office.

"I presume you know why you're here, Miss Rosenberg," the Captain said, her voice hard as steel.

"Uh, yes, ma'am. I think I do. It's about Tom, right? What I did to him, I mean."

"That's only the tip of the iceberg," Janeway said. "You've expressed a willingness to casually alter the memories of the crew of this ship. What guarantee do I have that you won't do it again?"

"Uh, well, I suppose you don't, do you? I mean, I can promise to the end of time and give you my genuine professions of guilt and shame, but that doesn't change that I still have the power to do that."

"You claim to feel guilt over your manipulation of Lieutenant Paris. How can I believe that? How can I believe anything you say?"

Rosenberg stood up straighter and suddenly looked a lot more sure of herself. "If you think I'm a threat, Captain, then why did you take me with you? You could have left me behind, you know? If you don't trust me, you can lock me up, but that won't hold me if I really decide I want to get out. You chose to give me a lift back to Earth, and I'm grateful for that. I just don't understand why you're refusing to trust someone you chose to bring aboard."

"Did I?"

Willow looked confused. "Sorry, what?"

"Did I choose to bring you aboard? Or is that something you planted in my mind?"

Rosenberg had the audacity to laugh. "Goddess, you really are stupid. If I wanted to alter your mind so badly, would we really be having this conversation? Hell, wouldn't I be the Captain if I wanted that much power? I don't work like that, Captain. Like I told Lieutenant Torres, I let my temper get the better of me and I did some stupid things. I didn't want word to get back to you, so I did some more stupid things. But I would have thought that coming clean and not hiding what I did would gain me a teensy bit of credibility."

"I thought about that," Janeway said, choosing not to rise to the woman's insult. "But the reports your security detail gave me paint another picture entirely. One of a woman who casually seeks out innocents, tortures them, and then hides all trace of her crimes."

Rosenberg put on a good show of confusion. i_Damn, but she's a good actress._/i

"Oh-kay, I'm officially lost. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a torturer of innocents."

"Is that so?" Janeway challenged. "Did you or did you not visit Cargo Bay Two last night at 1728 hours?"

"Uh, I think so. I don't have a future watch that tells me military time, but that sounds about right."

"And do you deny that shortly thereafter, the doors to Cargo Bay Two were locked from the inside while the guards heard loud screams coming from within?"

Now, at least, Rosenberg had the good grace to look guilty. Her face was somewhat red. "Ooh, yeah. I remember that part."

Janeway was incensed to see the beginnings of a smile on Rosenberg's face. "So when Seven of Nine's regeneration cycle went a full 75 minutes longer than usual, would you deny that she was recovering from the severe physical and/or mental trauma that you inflicted upon her and then erased from her memories?"

"What?"

"You sound surprised, Miss Rosenberg. Did I miss something?" Janeway said coolly.

"Yuh-huh! You missed a lot of stuff, doofus! I don't care if you are the Captain of the only ship with any humans on it in the entire quadrant. You need to stop being so paranoid and accept that not everyone is out to get you."

"You've given me reason to be suspicious. And I will not tolerate that level of disrespect on my ship," Janeway said, rising to her feet. "So let's hear your version of the story. What happened in Cargo Bay Two last night? And if you weren't doing any harm, then why did you seal the doors? I don't know how you did it, but I don't doubt it was you. So start talking!"

"You're a very bossy lady, you know that? I think you must be compensating for some deficiency. But," Rosenberg said, taking a deep breath, "I don't think my personal life is any of your business, Captain. My private life is going to stay private, and that's why I sealed the doors."

"Your 'private life,' as you put it, is a danger to my crew."

The door chimed. "Come in," Janeway said.

The door opened and Seven of Nine walked in. "Seven," the Captain said far more warmly, walking around her desk to take the young woman's hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well. Thank you, Captain."

"'Very well,' you say?" Janeway turned her gaze on Willow. "Are you aware of Miss Rosenberg's misuse of her substantial power?"

"Yes, Captain. She confided in me when she visited me last night before I regenerated."

"You'll forgive me for saying this, Seven, but you've never felt 'very well' before. You've always been 'sufficient' or 'acceptable.' So with a woman on board who can alter minds, I want to know if I can trust you, Seven."

"Hello? Standing right here," Rosenberg said sarcastically.

"Willow has been helping me to explore my humanity. I have learned a lot from her," Seven said with praise in her voice.

"Really? Does that exploration of your humanity include torture?"

Seven's face scrunched up in confusion. "Captain?"

"Willow's security detail heard screaming from inside Cargo Bay Two."

"Yes, Captain. We were engaging in sexual relations. It was a very enjoyable experience."

* * *

><p>"It's also kinda meant to be a private experience, Seven," Willow said gently with a nudge and a smirk.<p>

Janeway's mouth dropped open, and Willow took a moment to breathe in the air and savor the tiny victory over the stubborn Captain.

"I apologize, Willow. These experiences are new and confusing. I have much to learn."

"No need to apologize, Seven. You'll get there. So, Captain," Willow said with extra cheer, "Did you want to know more about what happened? We can show you all the positions and everything if you're really that curious."

"No, thank you, Miss Rosenberg. That won't be necessary," Janeway said, suddenly seeming out of breath. "But in the future, please keep your personal lives restricted to personal areas."

"Well, we would've done that, Captain," Willow said with a bit of exasperation, "but since Seven lives in the cargo bay, and since that's where the smoochies started… Well, Seven doesn't really have a private area. Why do you think I locked the door?"

"I have started examining i_Voyager's_/i transporters in preparation of beaming one of the alcoves in Cargo Bay Two to private quarters," Seven put it. "It seems viable, but it would consume a lot of power," Seven said.

"Or, I could help with that," Willow offered. "'Cause, you know, Power Girl over here. Only not wearing a costume and not all Kryptonian and chesty."

Janeway stepped up onto a raised area of her ready room and looked down on Willow and Seven. i_Wow. You even have a dais you get up on to get all high and mighty. You really are compensating for something, aren't you?_/i

"You've never expressed any of these desires before, Seven. How can I be certain that this isn't your doing, Rosenberg?"

Willow was starting to get really frustrated. "Oh, I dunno," she said sarcastically. "Maybe it's because Seven's a person, and while she's been adjusting to life as an individual gradually, she's getting to the point where she wants some of the same rights that the rest of the crew has. Speaking of which, if the Maquis – whatever they are – can be officers with strange rank insignia thingies, then why can't Seven? I mean, she's super-smart, right?"

"A uniform would help me to integrate into the crew," Seven put forth. "And it would likely be more comfortable and practical than my current range of garments," she said a tad bitterly.

Janeway put her hands on her hips. "You two have been discussing this, haven't you?"

"Is there some sort of rule against that, Captain?" Willow asked.

"No, there isn't," Janeway said a bit hesitantly. "It's just…" Willow thought she was grasping for words. "Seven, you've never felt like opening up to anyone before. What's changed?" she asked with what sounded like motherly concern as her hands left her hips.

Seven clasped her hands behind her back and looked up at Janeway with a haughty sort of pride that Willow found really sexy. "I have had to deal with the prejudices and preconceived notions of you and your crew, Captain, about what the Borg are, and about what a human should be. Willow does not share these views, and is more tolerant of who and what I am. She makes me feel things I did not know could be felt."

"Again, Seven," Willow interjected, "some stuff is private, y'know?"

"No, I don't know," Seven said honestly. "But I hope to learn."

Willow mentally smacked herself for her poor choice of words. "Right. Sorry. Of course I'll help you learn."

Willow turned back to Janeway. "You still didn't answer why you took me with you instead of leaving me behind, Captain, if you felt I was a threat. Was it an act of charity to 'save' the Topara?"

"Not quite. And not now, Seven," Janeway said, effectively cutting off the ravishing blonde from saying what she had been about to say. Willow's curiosity was piqued, but it could probably wait. "Miss Rosenberg, you offered the idea of a screen against telepathy. Report to the Doctor. He'll be testing you to see if such a thing is possible. Understood?"

Willow didn't like the Captain's bossy attitude, but there was no arguing that this was something that had to be done. "Yeah, that's definitely a good thing to have done. So, um, do I need to tell the guys with the guns outside where to go, or do they already know?"

"Just let them take the lead," Janeway said. "Seven, stay here for a moment, please."

"Yes, Captain," she said, and Willow was surprised to see the constant concern for Seven in Janeway's eyes and voice. She seemed to really care for her.

Willow cleared her throat. "So, um, I guess I'll be going then?"

Janeway nodded. "You're dismissed, Miss Rosenberg."

Seven watched Willow flash her a smile and a wink before exiting the Captain's ready room, leaving her alone with Janeway, who was still standing on the higher level of the chamber. The Captain leaned over the railing once Willow had left.

"So," Janeway began, "you've begun a relationship with Miss Rosenberg."

"Yes, Captain," Seven answered, unsure of why she needed to share this information.

"I've been hoping you'd continue to grow as an individual, and this is a good step. I won't lie, Seven, I'm wary of Rosenberg's power. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared of it, too. I just want you to know what you're getting yourself into."

"Captain?" Seven raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Janeway sighed and descended the steps to be on a more even footing with Seven. i_She is moving from a position of authority to one of companionship._/i

"Romance is a complicated thing that can be both wonderful and painful, often at the same time. Emotions end up taking you places where logic would never have you go."

"I understand, Captain. My body moved of its own accord, but the movements were in sync with Willow's body. We were as one," she said, and voicing the words aloud made Seven realize just how much the redhead had affected her.

Janeway hadn't missed it either. "You were as one," she repeated. "That's saying a lot, coming from you. I just want to know that your feelings for Willow are what they should be."

Seven tilted her head to the side a few degrees. "I don't understand. I was unaware that there were rules and propriety involved with romance."

"Propriety, to be sure. As for rules… I can't say that there are any real rules when it comes to who you love, but there are things to take into account to make sure that your feelings are what you think they are."

Seven was still confused. "Clarify."

The Captain sighed. "All right. You feel drawn to Willow. Why? What do you see in her?"

Seven stood up straighter. "My visual account of Willow is irrelevant. She seems to know me. She has expressed what could be called empathy. When I am with her, I do not feel as though I need to measure up to anyone's expectations. I feel accepted for who and what I am, and I do not feel compelled to give more than I can or want to give.

"And she seems to understand how I feel and think. She voices aloud things that I have thought privately, but have been unable to form into coherent thoughts or words."

Seven now affixed Janeway with a hard gaze. "Willow treats me as a person, and accepts that I may not ever be fully human. She does not seek to force my evolution as an individual."

Janeway looked taken aback. "Is that what you think, Seven? That I've been forcing you along a certain path?"

"Yes," Seven said without skipping a beat. "You forced me to join your crew, Captain. And while I have become relatively content with what i_Voyager_/i has to offer, I have not forgotten that I do not have the option to leave. You did not tell Willow, but you will not let her leave, either. Not unless you kill her."

The Captain's face hardened as she crossed her arms. "Willow Rosenberg's fate is one that needs to be handled with extreme care. Do I need to remind you the danger of allowing knowledge of Omega to spread?"

Seven held Janeway's gaze. "You do not, Captain." It seemed that Janeway did not know that Willow was already aware of Omega's ties to her. Seven saw no need to correct that oversight.

"Good. As for your romantic liaison with Miss Rosenberg… Just because she accepts you, that doesn't make her a prime romantic candidate. There are plenty of people who accept us for who we are, but it takes something special – something unique – to make two people truly soul mates."

"Soul mates? You are referring to the belief that every person is predestined to be with another specific person."

"Not destiny, Seven," Janeway said carefully. "Just that there's more to romance than acceptance. It's a good start, but there's so much more to love than that."

Seven straightened her back. "Even if you are correct, Captain," she said in a hard voice, "I will not find anyone else on iVoyager/i who accepts me. Willow makes me feel like I belong. I will not ignore that feeling, Captain."

Janeway leaned back on her desk and sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "No, Seven, I don't suppose you will."

* * *

><p>"Just hold still, Willow, and allow me to take a few scans. I may need to take a blood sample or inject you with an agent to make the scans clearer, but it won't be painful or harmful in any way."<p>

"Okay, Doc," Willow said as cheerfully as the circumstances could allow. She was lying on her back on what the Doctor has called a 'biobed,' but she didn't really get the 'bio' half of it. "I won't be going anywhere."

"That's a relief," the Doctor said with mild sarcasm that reminded Willow slightly of Giles when he was in a bad mood. Only the Doctor wasn't British and didn't wear tweed.

Willow felt strange as the Doctor ran a glowing thing over her while he looked at a separate instrument in his hand. "Um, is it okay if I talk while you do these readings? I won't distract you or disrupt your readings, will I?"

"If it becomes a problem, you'll be the first to know," he said a tad bitingly.

"Gotcha," Willow said. She felt a pressing need to get something off her chest. "So, um, is Tom okay?"

"When I scanned him, Mister Paris seemed to be in perfect health, save for a minor disruption to his circadian rhythm and some unusual brain activity generally associated with selective amnesia."

"Oh." Willow was privately glad that future tech could pick up on what had happened. It would mean that she wouldn't get a free pass if something suspicious happened. "Do you think you can prevent it from happening again?"

"That's what we're here to find out," the Doctor said neutrally, not looking up from his instruments.

Willow sighed resignedly. He was right about that. "Oh! Um, does doctor-patient confidentiality still exist in the future?"

"If you mean 'does it exist here and now,' then yes, it does. Do you have any medical concerns that require such confidentiality?"

"I don't think 'require' is the right word. I'd prefer it, though. I was hoping if you could, uh, check for any sexually transmitted diseases, or any other not-so-good things related to Borg technology."

Now the Doctor did shut down his instruments and look Willow in the eye. "You and Seven have been having sex." It wasn't a question.

"Uh, yeah. We did." Willow felt her face flush quite profusely.

The Doctor sighed. "Well, from what I know of each of your medical histories, neither of you has anything to fear from sexually transmitted disease. As for Borg technology getting in the way, that's something I'll have to take a closer look to determine. After I finish with my analysis of your telepathic capabilities, that is."

"Right, of course. I don't want to cause any trouble. I just got carried away with Tom. Do you think he'll forgive me?"

The Doctor made a noncommittal grunt as he continued his scans. "Mister Paris is many things that I wish he was not, but he is a generally forgiving person. He will likely be wary of you, but given time, I expect you two will be fine."

"Whew. That's a relief," Willow said with a small smile.

"I, however, am more worried about your relationship with Seven of Nine."

"W-what? Why're you worried?"

The Doctor shut down his instruments again. "Seven is still discovering what it means to be an individual. Despite her appearance, she is a far cry from a mature adult, speaking from a psychological standpoint. More than that, I like to consider myself her friend, and I don't want to see her hurt because of a random fling with an almost-complete stranger."

Willow winced at the harsh words, and they hurt because she knew the Doctor had a point. Not just about Seven, but about her as well. "I don't usually get that forward with people," Willow confessed. "I just… She's been through so much, and she's nice and smart and has a killer body, and I guess I got carried away. Not that I don't care for her, because I do. I want what's best for her, and I want to give it to her. But…" Willow sighed. "Seven wouldn't understand if we were moving too fast, would she?"

"No, I don't think she would," the Doctor said solemnly. "But you do understand, and considering all that Seven has gone through, I want both of you to examine your feelings very closely before continuing together. I'm speaking only partially as a doctor right now. Seven's mental well-being is a concern, but as a friend, I don't want to see her hurt."

"I get that. Really, I do. It's just that… She's like me," Willow said, slumping over as she realized what she saw in Seven. "She's a stranger here, she doesn't belong. And neither do I. And I thought we had some sort of chemistry together, and I guess I want that to be there really bad. I mean, Seven's a wonderful person from what I know of her. Which, admittedly, isn't a lot. But I want to get to know her. I really do. I want to know that my feelings aren't just a random infatuation. Seven deserves more than that."

"Hm." The Doctor resumed his scans. "Well, if you do decide to pursue a relationship with her, you'll have to be honest with her. It will be up to you to be the adult, so to speak. This is alien territory for Seven. She'll need all the help she can get. And you can't take advantage of her beliefs."

"Beliefs? You mean about Particle 010? Seven said that it had something to do with me. Are you saying she was right?"

"We know it as Omega, and I can't discuss it."

"What? But, if it has to do with me, then that's medical stuff that you have to share with me, right? I mean, what if it causes something to go wrong with me? Shouldn't I know what the risks are?"

"You should, Willow, and I regret not being able to tell you. The information is classified. I'm not even supposed to know about it, but I was forced to learn out of necessity."

Willow sat up and glared at the Doctor. "And now you're withholding information that could be vital to my medical well-being because of some military rule?" A great swell of anger began to rise in her chest.

A shock blasted her in the side and she fell to the ground. "Ow!" Willow stood on her hands and knees, still reeling from the shock. "What just happened?"

The previously silent security detail at the door had their weapons drawn and pointed at her. Willow suspected that she'd just been shot by some sort of weird future weapon. She wasn't dead, thankfully.

"What did you do that for?" the Doctor raged at the security duo. "Miss Rosenberg is a patient here, and if you're about to go shooting people in my care…"

"Her hair, Doctor," a man's voice said. "It was starting to darken."

Willow felt a chill run down her spine. She'd almost lost control again. She said a silent prayer of gratitude that she'd thought to ask the people here to keep her from going too far.

The Doctor seemed confused. "What does it matter? Given her condition, there are any number of reasons why…"

"Miss Rosenberg's own instructions, Doctor. For our safety, she said. If her hair starts to darken, we are to stun her to prevent her from losing control."

The bald hologram rushed to Willow's side and helped her to her feet. "Are you all right? And is this true?"

Willow nodded as she caught her breath. "Yes to both of the above," she said between breaths. "She turned to the security guards. "Um, is my hair still going all dark?"

"No, ma'am. It's back to normal."

"Oh. That's good. Thanks for keeping me from going overboard. I can't say I like getting shot, but I'm guessing that lasers hurt less than bullets."

"Phasers," the Doctor corrected her gently. "And I truly am sorry, but I can't answer any of your questions about Omega. I'm a doctor, and if you are ever in imminent danger, I will tell you everything you need to know. But I can tell you that I don't think you need to fear for your health from this phenomenon. Then again, my own knowledge is severely limited in this particular area."

Willow nodded. "Okay. And thank you, Doctor. Really, you've been all sorts of good to me, considering all that's happened in the last day or so."

The holographic man smiled gently. "My purpose is to heal and to put my patients at ease. If I've managed to do either of those with you, then I can call this a good day."

Willow found herself smiling back as the Doctor resumed his scans. "One last thing, Doc. Could I, um, could you give me Seven's measurements? As in for clothing? I want to give her some clothes that aren't so tight and degrading, and I'd like it to be a surprise. U-unless that's confidential information that you can't share with anyone else, that is."

"Hm. I suppose something like that could be arranged. What sorts of garments did you have in mind?"

"Oh, some practical stuff for working on a ship. Some pants with pockets, some shirts, some underwear. You know, the basics."

"I see. And anything else?"

Willow tried to look innocent. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a doctor, not a monk. I know how you feel about Seven. Do you expect me to believe that you intend to restrict your gifts to clothing meant for public display?"

Willow smirked. "I was right. You do have a dirty mind, Doc."

"My job requires it," he said without humor. "Now hold still and be quiet while I continue scanning."

"Whatever you say, Doc," Willow said knowingly. "Whatever you say."


	6. Chaos

**Chapter Six: Chaos**

* * *

><p>On the holodeck, Seven of Nine found herself engaged in a vital simulation, or so she had been told. The goal was to improve her social skills, which she would attain by interacting with reproductions of the crew. The ex-drone felt a nervousness about the encounter that she did not understand. It was just a holographic simulation, nothing more.<p>

"Go on, Seven. They won't bite," Willow said from her side.

Seven did not smile, but she did breathe a bit easier. After their first passionate meeting, the two of them had agreed to take their relationship more slowly. Willow had become very emotional over concerns that she'd been 'moving too fast,' and Seven was hopeful that she could prove herself to be worth the other woman's time and affections.

"We'll do this together, okay?" the redhead offered.

Seven nodded slightly as the two women approached a table with Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim seated together. "Lieutenant, Ensign," she said by way of greeting.

"Hey, Seven," the Kim hologram said. "Care to join us?"

"I do not require-"

"Sure, we'd love to," Willow interrupted. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Torres said a bit reluctantly. "Who's your friend, Seven?"

Seven felt a tinge of annoyance as Willow sat down on the other side of the table, looking up at Seven expectantly. "This is my friend, Willow. Willow, this is Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres and Ensign Harry Kim." There. That was a proper social introduction, wasn't it?

"Hi there," Harry said.

"Hey," Willow said quietly. Again, she looked up to Seven expectantly.

Preferring to stand, Seven merely turned to 'Harry.' "Ensign Kim, what is your place of origin?"

"You mean where I grew up? Uh, South Carolina. It could get really hot in the-"

"Lieutenant," Seven cut him off, now addressing 'B'Elanna,' "how did you become a member of the Maquis?"

"Whoa! Hold on there, Seven," Willow said. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "We're just hoping to get to know you, y'know? So, uh, why don't we back it up a bit," she said with a look at Seven. "What was it like growing up in South Carolina, Ensign Kim?"

As the holographic Ensign launched into a detailed description of irrelevant minutiae, Seven found herself a tad annoyed that Willow had taken over the use of the program that the Doctor had designed specifically for her social development.

"Did you have any questions about South Carolina, Seven?" Willow said, causing her to refocus. "Any curiosities that you want to know about?"

"No." Really, what more was there to say? "Lieutenant," she said once again, "describe how you become a member of the Maquis."

Willow sighed. "Computer, freeze program."

The Doctor came up from behind Seven to join them. "Thank you, Miss Rosenberg."

"Uh, you're welcome?" Willow said as though she wasn't sure why she was being thanked.

Seven was beyond lost. "Explain."

"Well, Seven," Willow began, "it's just that when you socialize with people, you need to give them time to respond. Since, y'know, when you ask someone a question, you're implying that you want to know the answer."

"I did," Seven countered. "I inquired as to Ensign Kim's place of origin. He provided it. What more was there to be said?"

"That's not quite how socializing works, Seven," the Doctor said carefully. "When you're talking with people in such a setting, the point is to become more familiar with the person, not just with the facts of their life. Listening to them talk about themselves is a way to better understand the person as a whole."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand."

"Well," Willow said, "let's take me, for example. It's been about a week or so since I first got here. What do you know about me as a person? That is to say, not facts about me, but how you see me as a person."

Seven felt a heat come to her cheeks, which she recognized as a biological symptom of embarrassment. "You are gentle, Willow. You care for people and do not wish to harm others. You have problems with control, and you do not like it when you lose that control. You count your closest friends as closer than family, and you would likely be happier if you had friends from your own time here with you."

Now Willow's face flushed. "Uh, yeah. That's right. I would be happier if I could see my friends again." Her eyes looked out the fake window. Seven recognized the gesture that many individuals did: looking out at the stars as though they held answers.

"But, right. How do you know that about me, Seven? How did you find all of that out?"

Seven was not prepared for the question, but she thought on it all the same. "We have spent time together over the past week," she said. "We have talked. You have shared details of your life with me. You have trusted me."

"Sure did!" Willow said with a smile. "And the reason I trusted you was because you made me feel comfortable enough to talk about myself. You showed an interest in me as a person, and you gave me time and respect that allowed me to share some things with you." Willow gestured at the still forms of Torres and Kim. "You didn't do that here, Seven. You didn't give them time or a whole lot of respect."

"Why should I?" Seven countered. "They are merely holograms."

"That's beside the point, Seven," the Doctor said with more than a hint of aggravation. "The holodeck is a place to pretend that the unreal is real. If you ever want to get to know the crew better, than you need to put into practice with them the same tactics you've used with Willow."

"But I do not want to know Ensign Kim or Lieutenant Torres," Seven countered. "Unless they have data to help me perform my duties more efficiently, what is the point of 'getting to know' them?"

Willow chuckled. "You remind me of Anya. She was a friend from back home. Well, kind of a friend. Friend of a friend. In a strange, demonic, vengeance-y sort of way. Let's look at this from a different angle, Seven. Is there anyone you do want to get to know better?"

"Yes," Seven answered with confidence. "I wish to become more acquainted with you and the Doctor," she said, turning to each of them.

The Doctor seemed taken by surprise. "You don't say," he said. "Why is that?"

"You are the only two people on _Voyager_who treat me as you would any other person, barring specific medical conditions. The rest of the crew will inevitably treat me differently because I am Borg. You do not."

"Oh, I dunno," Willow said with a grin. "This guy here, Ensign Kim… I've heard some stories about how he-"

"Those stories are irrelevant," Seven cut her off. She did not want to be reminded of the man's idiotic infatuation with her. "Ensign Kim treated me as he did with personal gain in mind."

"Oh, really? You don't say," Willow said, getting up from her seat to come closer to Seven. "I'd say I have something to gain from knowing you, Seven. That doesn't mean I don't care about you and what's best for you. Give people a bit of credit. They'll surprise you if you let them, and not always in a bad way."

"Aptly put, Miss Rosenberg," the Doctor said.

"Thank you," Willow replied. "And as for personal gain, I like to think that you're gaining something form being with… From… Oh, Goddess!"

"What's wrong?" Seven asked as Willow fell to the floor. "Doctor!"

The Doctor hurried over to Willow's side and took out his tricorder. "There's some sort of radiation permeating the ship. This could be affecting the entire crew. We need to get to the bridge."

"Doctor, wait!" Seven said as she looked at Willow.

The young redhead was chanting something under her breath that Seven couldn't understand. No longer clutching her head in pain, Willow was now seated calmly with her legs crossed over each other. As she chanted with her eyes closed, her hair began to pale until it was pure white.

"Doctor," Seven said again, "what is happening to her?"

"I don't know. But didn't she say that her hair turning white was a sign of her doing something beneficial?"

Before Seven could respond, she heard the Doctor's combadge report medical emergencies on Decks One, Two, and Six.

"I may need your help, Seven. As you and Mister Paris have both mentioned, we need to expand the medical staff to prepare for unexpected cases like this."

"It was Willow who suggested that," Seven said quietly, staring at the beautiful, peaceful woman with the flowing white hair.

"Seven?"

She snapped herself back into focus. "Yes, Doctor. I will comply."

* * *

><p>Captain Janeway stumbled to her feet after the sudden onslaught of pain. Had it been something in the nebula they were approaching? It had to have been? "Ensign Kim, report." She had to know what she was up against.<p>

"It looks like some form of radiation that I can't recognize is coming from the nebula, Captain. It's strange. Before we even backed away, some sort of barrier formed around the ship, integrating with our shields. It seems to be protecting the ship against the radiation."

"Barriers like that don't just spontaneously appear, Mister Kim. Where did it come from?"

"I have a hypothesis, Captain," Tuvok said from the tactical station. "Internal sensors are detecting anomalous readings that match the barrier around the ship. The barrier is being projected outwards from Holodeck One." The Vulcan's eyebrows moved up on his head a bit. "Miss Rosenberg is stationary in that room, Captain. The computer indicates that she was with the Doctor and Seven of Nine until the nebula began to affect us."

Janeway tapped her combadge. "Bridge to Holodeck One."

"Ayala here," the security officer assigned to Rosenberg said.

"Mister Ayala, can you please tell me what the hell is going on down there."

"I'm not sure, Captain. The Doctor and Seven of Nine exited and told us to watch over Miss Rosenberg as she… As she does whatever it is she's doing. Her hair has turned white, Captain."

Chakotay turned to look at Janeway. "Do you think she's keeping this barrier up? Protecting us?"

"It seems that way," Janeway said. "Keep an eye on Rosenberg until further notice, Mister Ayala. Janeway out. Mister Paris, back us off fifty thousand kilometers further away from that nebula. I want to know what we're up against without having to rely on whatever it is we're relying on now." She didn't know what Rosenberg was, but she'd proven to be cooperative over the past week, and had seemed quite genuinely sorry for what she'd done to Tom. She still warranted caution, but if Omega had been given free will and had chosen to help her ship and crew, Janeway figured she'd be a fool to turn that down.

"Aye, Captain," Tom answered from the helm.

The turbolift doors opened to admit the Doctor. "What happened here?" he asked as he moved towards a crewman with burns on his face.

"We all started to feel an intense pain," Janeway told him. "It seems as though Rosenberg is holding up a barrier between us and whatever radiation this nebula is putting out, but we've backed off just in case."

"I see. This man has second degree burns. Mister Paris, if you're able, I need your help in Sickbay. And Captain," the Doctor said as he turned to face Janeway, "I've been thinking about how reliant I've become on Mister Paris's skills, and I'd like to ask permission to begin training a larger medical team. With only myself, Mister Paris, Seven of Nine, and a small other number of…"

"I don't recall Seven of Nine ever being assigned medical duties," Janeway said, crossing her arms and feeling a touch of displeasure at the loose cannon that was Seven of Nine being trusted with such duties.

"As a drone, Captain, Seven had extensive knowledge of anatomy and biology for any number of species. I requested her help and she volunteered it for this particular matter, and I'd like to draw on her again if need be."

Janeway nodded. The thought was hardly without merit. "I'll consider it. Quite frankly, I'm sometimes amazed that we've gotten as far as we have without a larger medical staff."

The Doctor huffed. "I've had to make several modifications to my program to accommodate the lack of personnel. To quote something I heard Mister Paris say once, I've had to make myself better, stronger, and faster than I was before just to be able to keep up with the influx of patients. So thank you, Captain, but my services are needed in Sickbay. Mister Paris, with me, please."

"Right with you, Doc," Tom said as he helped the burned crewman to his feet and to the turbolift.

Janeway nodded as the Doctor and Tom left the bridge. "Chakotay, Tuvok, my ready room. Mister Kim, you have the bridge."

Not bothering to listen to the young Ensign's reply, the Captain strode to the room next door that served as her office, her executive and chief tactical officers right behind her. "Tuvok, what were you able to tell about the nebula before we were forced to turn back?"

"Sensors were unable to detect the size of the nebula, Captain," the gold-uniformed Vulcan said. "However, the astrometric sensors may be more suited to that task. I would estimate that circumventing the nebula would take significantly longer than traveling through it, if that is at all possible."

"How much longer, Tuvok?" Chakotay asked.

"I don't know, Commander. Ensign Kim or Seven of Nine would be better able to answer that question."

"There is the possibility that we could go through it safely," Chakotay put forth. "You said that we were protected from the radiation _before_we backed off?"

"That is correct, Commander. However, if you are proposing that Miss Rosenberg protect the ship for an extended period of time, that may not be possible."

"She's Omega incarnate, Tuvok," Janeway said more harshly than she intended. "Somehow I doubt that anything isn't possible for her."

"I disagree, Captain. The power of 'Omega incarnate' – as you phrased it – would indeed be great. But it would likely be Miss Rosenberg's will that would direct and control that power."

Janeway had to concede that point. Even if the Omega molecules in Rosenberg's body were stable, the will to bend such power would have to be enormous. "Would a mind-meld be feasible, Tuvok? To help her keep her power stable?"

Tuvok's brow lifted. "I am uncertain, Captain. I would only undertake such a procedure if no other option were viable, however. A mind-meld is a deeply personal connection. It is not something to be considered lightly."

The Captain slapped her knee. "Well, we'd better have a talk with Miss Rosenberg, I suppose." Janeway tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Ayala."

"Ayala here, Captain."

"Please activate the arch on the holodeck and patch me through to Miss Rosenberg."

There was a brief pause before the reply. "Understood, Captain. Patching you through. I'm not entirely certain that she'll be able to hear you, though."

Taking a seat at her desk, Janeway looked at her computer screen and saw the connection being made. Two security guards were flanking a white-haired and glowing Willow Rosenberg. She was sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed.

Janeway raised an eyebrow and let herself smirk a bit at the oddity in front of her. "Miss Rosenberg, if you can hear me, the danger to the ship has passed for the time being. You are free to release your… Your protection if you so desire."

The glow around the woman faded, and her hair reddened back to its normal hue. Her eyes opened and she stood up. "Thanks, Captain. Uh, where are you? Did you just talk through the wall or something?" she asked, looking around the room. "Uh, sorry, sir," she asked Ayala, "but, um, where's the Captain?"

Janeway had to hold in a bit of laughter at the cluelessness of the young woman as Ayala pointed her towards the screen on the arch. When the younger woman's eyes dawned in comprehension, she waved at the screen.

"It's good to see you back among us, Miss Rosenberg. I understand we have you to thank for preventing what could have been a much worse disaster."

"Oh, uh, you're welcome," Rosenberg said awkwardly. "I hope I didn't do anything funny to the ship by accident. Because that would be kinda bad. Unless it was a good kind of something that I did to the ship, in which case maybe I can try it again. But that might not be a good idea, actually, since magic isn't always predictable, and I'm babbling again so I'm gonna shut up now."

Janeway smiled despite herself. "I was hoping you might be able to help with whatever it is you were just doing for the duration of our trip through the nebula we just encountered. It seems to be putting out some sort of radiation that you were protecting us from."

"I could try, sure. But, uh, how long would I have to hold it for? 'Cause magic eats up a lot of energy on my part. But I'm not as exhausted as I should be. Weird. Maybe it's that Omega stuff."

"I beg your pardon?" Had someone been blabbing about Omega without authorization? _Please, Seven, don't let it be you._

Rosenberg winced. "Sorry! Is that something I'm not supposed to talk about?"

"Certainly not with unauthorized personnel right beside you!" Janeway blurted out.

"Oh. My bad. Just a moment." Willow raised both arms to her sides. A pale glow was visible from either palm, and then she lowered her hands. "Okay. They can't hear what we're talking about anymore. So what's the deal with Omega? Or Particle 010, or whatever you call it? Seven said you detected it as soon as you detected me."

_Dammit, Seven!_Janeway shot a look at Tuvok who nodded and began to go and organize a security team. Her longest friend needed no words to understand the severity of the situation. "This conversation is not happening, Miss Rosenberg. Not now, not ever. Understood?"

"Uh, no? I mean, if this really powerful substance appeared right when I did, then we're probably connected, and I think I should know more about it."

"Well, I'm afraid you're out of luck, Miss Rosenberg. You 'think you should know' about classified information, and I'm not about to…"

"Is that what I am to you, Captain? 'Classified information?' Huh. The Doctor told me something like that, but I didn't realized that it applied to me, personally."

Janeway sighed. If the Doctor had also been talking about Omega, she might have to get B'Elanna to rewrite his program. "I think that if we're going to have this talk, it should be in a more appropriate venue. Now, if you would kindly allow me to give orders to my own men, Miss Rosenberg?"

"They can hear you, Captain. They just can't eavesdrop. Go ahead. Give your orders," Rosenberg said with crossed arms.

Janeway felt a shiver run down her spine. She'd thought that Rosenberg had deafened her officers somehow, but she claimed to have been creating a _selective_barrier. Willow Rosenberg seemed to be more in control of her powers than Tuvok had given her credit for. "Very well. Mister Ayala, please escort Miss Rosenberg to the briefing room."

"Understood, Captain."

"Good. Janeway out." Signing off from her terminal, the Captain leaned back in her chair and sighed.

Chakotay decided to give his opinion. "Seven of Nine has never really been a team player, but the Doctor may have been trying to abide by his ethical subroutines. Do you think we need to confine Seven to the cargo bay?"

"I hope not, Chakotay. Let's get the wounded taken care of first, and then we'll deal with this information leak."

* * *

><p>Willow was bored. She had been waiting in the briefing room for two hours with nothing but the silent security team to keep her company. Yeah, she got an entire team all to herself, not just the two standard goons anymore. The black guy with the pointy ears – Tuvok if she remembered his name right – had two gold pips and a black one on his collar. He had mentioned his rank when she had first come aboard, but Willow didn't remember it off the top of her head, and Tom hadn't explained the rank markings beyond Lieutenant.<p>

The waiting was more than boring, however. It was nerve-wracking. The medicine in the future seemed to be so advanced to Willow's eyes. And if it was taking this long for the Captain to get ready to talk with her, then the casualties must have been bad. Willow felt rather terrible that she hadn't gotten her spell up in time to help more. She might not like the military all that much in any shape or form, but she didn't want anyone to get hurt if she could help it.

"Um, Tuvok?" she asked for at least the fifth time in the past two hours. "Sorry, but I forgot your rank. And I just want you to know that I haven't been lying about my ability and willingness to help treat the injured. I mean, if anyone's hurt, then it's my fault for not acting fast enough, so I want to help if I can."

The Vulcan-in-question did not respond verbally, but he did raise his eyebrows a small bit. Willow figured that the eyebrows were a key indicator of emotions on a Vulcan visage. _Stupid military and their no-talking rules. At least there aren't any guns pointed at me. And I guess they're not stopping me from talking._Willow decided not to push her luck in that matter, as irritating her guards would likely not be a good idea.

The doors finally opened to admit Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, the Doctor and Seven of Nine. She'd only met the tattooed first officer once a few days ago, and he'd seemed nice enough, if a bit bland. It was good to see Seven and the Doctor, though. He might seem like a curmudgeon, but the Doctor was a really nice guy underneath it all. And Seven was really sweet. She was smart and sassy and sexy and so very innocent despite it all.

A nod from Janeway to the security team sent them all outside, except for Tuvok. Once the door closed behind the others, the officers and Seven took their seats. "Is everyone all right, Captain? I mean, did anyone get really badly hurt? I tried to get my spell up in time, but if I didn't, and someone got hurt because of it, then I want to…"

"Willow, relax," the Doctor said in a soothing voice. "From what we've been able to tell, a few crewmen suffered some burns, but nobody suffered anything that wasn't treatable. If it wasn't for you, we might have even had some fatalities."

The Captain sat at the head of the table and smiled gently at Willow. "I take the lives of my crew very seriously, Miss Rosenberg. You've just saved a number of my crew, and helped to stop what could have been an outright disaster. Thank you."

Willow hadn't expected that. "You're welcome! I'm just glad everyone's okay. And I was telling Tuvok over there – again, I'm sorry, but I forgot your rank – that I know some healing magic that I'd be willing to put to use in Sickbay. I mean, as long as we're going to be stuck out here for a while, I may as well make myself useful. A-and I took some psychology classes back on Earth. Of course, that's almost four hundred years old, and different species probably think really differently, but if I can help, then that'd be great."

Janeway was actually smiling, which surprised Willow considering the contentiousness of their conversation a few hours ago. "I'd been hoping that you'd be willing to help in some form or another. I just didn't know what would be best for you. Doctor? Could you put Miss Rosenberg to use in Sickbay?"

"Possibly," the hologram said carefully. "I'm not generally inclined to trust medical practices that I'm unfamiliar with. If you'd be willing to undergo formal medical training, Willow, then that would make me far more comfortable. However, I would not be against studying your own methods of healing, if that's even possible."

"Oh. Yeah, that'd be totally fine. I'm not that skilled with conventional medicine. Or, rather, what was conventional back in 2004. But, I know basic first aid and CPR and such. I've had to help tend to some pretty bad injuries back when I was on Earth. And I wasn't able to use magic for some of that. I mean, I'm not a doctor or anything, but I can recognize broken bones and stuff like that."

"Curious," Tuvok said from his seat across from Willow. "You claim to have no formal medical training, yet you also claim to have skill in treating injuries. Does your experience come from the group that the Topara referred to as 'Slayers?'"

"Slayers? What are you talking about, Tuvok?" the Doctor said with evident surprise.

"Miss Rosenberg, would you care to enlighten us?" Janeway prompted.

Willow felt too many eyes on her. "I'm kinda surprised you don't already know. I mean, this is a military ship, right? So, you guys would have all sorts of records from the Initiative, wouldn't you?"

"What initiative?" Commander Chakotay asked.

Willow observed all of their faces. "You really don't know? Well, I don't know if that was its official name, but the Initiative was a US Military operation back in my freshman year of college. They were studying the 'hostile sub-terrestrials,' as they liked to call demons, and even tried to make super-soldiers out of them. Idiots were in so far over their heads."

The looks on the others' faces told Willow that they were not buying the existence of demons. "And what exactly is a Slayer?" the Captain asked.

"A Slayer," Willow said carefully, "is a chosen warrior meant to fight and, well, slay demons. But only the bad ones. Because there are actually some good ones, contrary to popular belief. Except that popular belief is probably that demons are made-up, and I get the impression that you're not believing a word I'm saying."

"I would not necessarily discount your words as false, Miss Rosenberg," Tuvok said.

"You wouldn't?" Janeway said with surprise.

"No, Captain. The Topara claimed that Slayers battled 'threats from Beyond.' Perhaps what they believed to be demons were actually hostile non-humans from off-world."

"Nope," Willow said. "Demons. Not aliens. Never met aliens before the Topara. We thought they were demons at first, actually. Thought they were trying to invade. And as for the 'threats from Beyond,' try extra-dimensional, not extra-terrestrial. Except for that one time which was kinda both."

"And you were one of these 'Slayers,' Miss Rosenberg?" Chakotay asked.

"No, not me. I didn't even know that such things existed until my sophomore year of high school. I was never a Slayer. I was one of the support crew for Buffy until I activated all the Slayers around the world. Then I helped track them all down and helped to organize and coordinate everything. There only used to be one at a time, you see, but that's kind of a long story."

Seven arched her metal eyebrow, which Willow found incredibly sexy. "You activated them? Clarify."

"Uh, I did a spell so that everyone with the potential to be a Slayer actually became a Slayer. That equals enhanced strength, stamina, heightened senses, faster healing, and some other powers that I'm not recalling off the top of my head. Oh! Prophetic dreams, right! Can't forget that."

Willow took a deep breath and looked the Captain straight in the eye. "And that's something that I think we're both wondering about. My power, or rather the source of that power. I know it as magic. You know it as Omega. The Borg know it as Particle 010. And from what I gather, that's not common knowledge."

"No, it's not," Janeway said, suddenly stern. "Quite frankly, I'd like to know how you found out about Omega in the first place, Miss Rosenberg. Did you pry it from someone's mind?"

Willow paled at the suggestion. "No! Goddess, no! Seven mentioned that something called Omega appeared at the same time I did. I'm kinda glad she told me, since it seems like something I deserve to know. She seemed to think that Omega was inside of me."

Janeway set her gaze on the ex-drone. "Seven? Is this true?"

"Yes, Captain. The conversation happened as Willow described it."

"I see. Miss Rosenberg, are you aware of why knowledge of Omega is so carefully guarded?"

"Uh, is it because it's so uber-powerful, and that power in the wrong hands could be really bad?"

"Not just that," Janeway said. "But that power has never been successfully harnessed. Not until now. The failed attempts to do so have all been disastrous and highly destructive. You are, quite frankly, something we thought was impossible."

"Oh." Willow didn't quite know what to say to that. "Is that good or bad?"

"That depends," Seven said. "Captain, do you intend to carry out the Omega Directive?"

Something in Seven's voice sent a chill through Willow's body. "What is she talking about, Captain?" Willow asked fearfully.

"I'm sorry, Willow, but that's classified. As classified as it gets," Janeway said with some sympathy. Willow did not miss the use of her first name, likely in an attempt to soothe her. "Any discussion of the Omega Directive beyond these walls will warrant the most severe punishment. I am sorry, but this is-"

"Me!" Willow shouted. "This concerns me. This _is_me! I think I have the right to know."

"Well, you don't," Janeway said, her voice suddenly hard as steel. "End of debate."

"No, Captain," Seven said with equal hardness. "If you will not tell Willow what Starfleet intends for her, then I will."

Janeway rose to her feet and slapped her combadge. "Security to the briefing room." She looked to the Vulcan. "Tuvok."

Willow also got to her feet as she saw Tuvok pull his laser thing from his belt and train it on her and Seven. "What are you doing?" Willow protested, feeling confused and afraid. "What have we done that you need to point weapons at us for?"

The security team that had been with Willow before the meeting started re-entered the briefing room. "Take Miss Rosenberg and Seven of Nine to Sickbay. Unconscious."

Before Willow could even comprehend what was going on, a number of phaser blasts struck her in the chest, and she felt rage course through her as she saw Seven fall to the ground alongside her. Another wave of blasts struck her, and Willow's world went dark.

* * *

><p>Janeway let out a sigh of what might have been relief as the two women felt to the floor. "Doctor, prepare both Seven and Rosenberg for surgery. I don't want either of them remembering anything about the Omega Directive."<p>

"You want me to erase their memories? Captain, have you lost your mind?" the Doctor shouted. "They haven't done anything to warrant such treatment! This goes against everything in my programming."

"Doctor, what do you think Rosenberg would do if she knew the truth? Be honest."

"Honestly, Captain, I think that if you had told her the truth and treated her as something other than a security risk, she would have understood. She knows very well the risks that her power can present. Even if she doesn't know the specifics of Omega, she's used to the burden of power." As dangerous as she was, Willow did have a rapport with him and with Seven, and she seemed genuinely remorseful for the harm she had done to Mister Paris.

The Captain simply narrowed her eyes. "Unfortunately, I can't take that risk. I understand how Seven and Rosenberg probably feel, but it's simply too much to ask that Rosenberg won't destroy us all if she finds out what's in store for her. Now, prepare them both for surgery behind a level ten force field. And there will be a security team standing by that's been treated to resist telepathy. Understood?"

The Doctor was at a loss. On the one hand, the Captain's orders went against the very core of his programming, which was very specifically meant to do no harm. On the other hand, if he refused, then the Captain would likely have a security team keep either Seven or Willow or both of them restrained indefinitely to ensure the safety of _Voyager. _If Willow resisted, the Doctor wondered if Janeway might carry out the Omega Directive and kill her.

"I understand, Captain," he said solemnly. "I'll begin the preparations at once."

"Very good, Doctor. Dismissed."

With a breathless sigh to indicate his irritation, the Doctor exited the briefing room and began to think what he was going to do about this. He wasn't about to violate two innocents for no good reason, no matter what he'd told the Captain. And if she wouldn't let them keep their memories on board, then they'd have to keep their memories away from _Voyager_. It was time to plan a rescue.


	7. Two For One

**Chapter Seven: Two For One**

* * *

><p>Seven took in her nightmarish surroundings, all the while feeling a strange detachment from the experience. She walked through a fire and knew that it was a point of no return. She continued to walk through the fire, and she let it burn. The notions felt strange to her, but she did not question them.<p>

She occupied a town at night, and she suspected that she was on Earth. She knew that this should feel strange, but it did not. There was a building off to one side of her that looked as though it had just been constructed. A sign labeled it 'Sunnydale High School.'

A few more steps saw her surroundings change. A large neon sign labeled 'The Bronze' was above a doorway that admitted her to a darker, moodier area than _Voyager's _mess hall, but the functions were definitely similar. How she knew this, she did not know.

Seven turned around and found herself in an open air field with several stone tablets surrounding her. Names and dates were engraved on them, and she realized that each stone was a memorial to a deceased person. All of the dead were humans, as best as she could tell by the names.

"You made it, Seven."

The ex-Borg turned around and was not surprised to see Willow there, though she knew that she should be unnerved by this entire experience. "What is this place, Willow?"

"This? This is Sunnydale, California, where I grew up and spent most of my life. I don't suppose the Borg know anything about Sunnydale, do they?"

"No," Seven replied. "There is no record of a Sunnydale, California ever existing."

"Huh. I guess I was right. We are from alternate universes. Maybe that's why my body turned into Omega. It was adapting to the rules of your universe. Just a theory. What do you think?"

"It is as likely as anything else," Seven conceded. "Is there something watching us?"

"Oh, there are several somethings that watch people at night in Sunnydale. Or, they did before the town collapsed. That's a vampire over there," Willow said, pointing to a humanoid creature with yellow eyes, fangs and a bumpy forehead.

"Vampires are creatures of myth and fiction," Seven protested.

Willow sighed. "Yeah, I thought the same thing until my sophomore year of high school. That particular vampire is one I'll never forget. I always hate this part," she said as a young man with black hair charged the creature with a wooden stake and thrust it into the vampire's chest, prompting it to disintegrate.

Seven processed the display of the supernatural with a cool detachment that would have been abnormal under most circumstances. "This stone we are standing above right now belongs to that creature, doesn't it?"

"Sort of," Willow said. "A vampire is a demon/human hybrid, but it's basically a demon inhabiting a human corpse. The human that vampire used to be is memorialized here." The witch crouched down and stroked the name 'Jesse McNally' that was engraved on the tablet. A small stone suddenly appeared in Willow's hand, and she placed it atop the slab.

"Why did you do that?" Seven asked.

Willow smiled sadly. "It's an old Jewish custom: a way of paying respect for the dead. I'm not sure what the original meaning was, but it's a habit I try to keep up with. I may not be that observant, but it's part of who I am."

"I see." Seven did understand all too well what Willow meant. "This isn't real, is it?"

"What, Sunnydale? Oh, it was real. What we're experiencing right now, though… This is a dream. At least, I think it is. I've never shared a dream with someone before, so I can't be certain. What about you?"

Seven shook her head. "I do not recall dreaming before. I have never experienced anything like this. But it does not feel threatening."

"That's because it's a dream. And if we're sharing it, there's probably something important about it."

Seven nodded, recalling something similar. "A species we encountered put us all into a state of unconsciousness that linked our minds. Could this be something similar?"

"No, I don't think so. We're operating at a subconscious level, at least. Possibly higher. Let's keep walking, shall we?"

"Very well."

The two women strolled through the cemetery and watched the sun rise, saw the people of the town go about their daily business, all the way until the sun set again and darkness fell.

"This is the source of your power, isn't it, Willow?"

"I suppose you could say that. The Earth is really where it comes from, but it's not the only place where power dwells. I learned the hard way that power is something to be handled carefully. You can very easily have too much power. Look here, for example."

Seven stopped at another headstone, but this one stood above an empty grave. It was labeled 'Buffy Anne Summers.' A caption read, 'She saved the world a lot.'

"Where is the body, Willow?"

The witch sighed heavily. "By now? Hopefully she's resting peacefully in another grave somewhere else. She was dead for a few months in this plot right here, before I brought her back with my magicks. I thought I had all the answers, and I thought I knew what was best for everyone." She let out a humorless laugh. "Boy, was I wrong."

Seven knew what had happened despite not being told. "She had no desire to return to life."

"No, she didn't. I was so focused on what the rest of us wanted that I never stopped to think that Buffy herself might've been happy. She got over it eventually, but not before I almost tore the world apart. Again, I was so selfish. I thought that my misery was so important that there was nothing else in the world. I deluded myself into thinking that the world was made up of pain, and I resolved to end it."

"Why?" Seven asked. "What could bring you to such distress?"

The sun rose and Willow held another stone in her hand as she walked forward towards a third headstone. It was labeled 'Tara Maclay.' The witch placed the stone atop the memorial and stroked the name with her hand. "For a time, she was the source of my strength. Not my power, not at all. But my strength, my will, my conviction to do what was right… Tara was my everything."

Seven walked to Willow's side and took her by the hand. Images and sounds and feelings of another young blonde woman came rushing into her mind. A sense of soft gentleness greeted her, but beneath it was a firm foundation.

"Like grass above the ground," Willow said. "Tara, Terra, for a while they were the same thing to me. I couldn't live without her. And when she died, I felt that no one else should live without her either." Willow kept stroking the headstone. "Goddess, what an idiot I was. And there's so much out here beyond just Earth. Imagine what we can learn from other species, and what they can learn from us! And to think that I almost put a stop to all of that that out of a fit of rage. I really am a horrible person."

"No, you aren't," Seven said firmly, pulling Willow up to stand in front of her. "Your past is not something you can change, but you can learn and adapt to prevent those mistakes in the future. You once told me that you did not hold me accountable for what I did as a Borg. I can tell that you were not the same person that you are now when you tried to end the Earth. You were filled with a dark power that I don't understand, but it was not you, Willow. I don't know how I know this, but I do."

Willow took Seven by the hand and smiled. "Tara was always honest and kind and gentle. You remind me of her in some ways. You're very different, but you're also similar. You're both shy and kind and still discovering who you are." Willow smirked. "And you're both very sexy blondes."

Seven felt suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't want to disrespect your lover, Willow. She sounds like a beautiful person."

"Oh, she is," Willow said with conviction, and Seven noted that they were both using the present tense. "Wherever Tara is, I know that she's a person of beauty and grace. And I know I'll see her again one day. But I know her well enough to know that she wouldn't want me to mope by her graveside while my life passes me by. You'll meet her too, one day, Seven."

Seven merely nodded, knowing that Willow spoke the truth. "I look forward to the encounter."

A sound like static cut through the air, and a voice followed. The sight of the Doctor came right behind. "Seven, Willow. If you're hearing me now, then I am correct in guessing that you are both in a state of shared dreaming. Captain Janeway believes you're a threat to _Voyager_, and wants me to erase your memories of everything pertaining to Omega."

"Curious," Seven said. "The Doctor is able to communicate with us while we are asleep."

"He's using some future tech with a recording attached to it, Seven," Willow said, making sense of it all. "He can't hear us, can you, Doc?"

"My medical ethics won't allow me to violate your memories," the recording continued, "but Captain Janeway won't let you go without a fight. I'm going to wake you both shortly, starting with you, Willow. I've taken the liberty of giving you a slight adrenaline boost to allow you to make your way to the shuttlebay more quickly. You can escape and get away from _Voyager._I wish you two had had more time to form a bond, but you'll have to do it as you go. I regret that I can't go with you. The ship will still need a doctor, after all. Look after each other and keep each other safe."

"We will, Doc. Thanks for everything," Willow said with a smile.

Seven turned her head. "I believe you are about to wake up."

"I think so, too. See you in a bit, Seven."

* * *

><p>Willow felt her body again, and she realized that she was awake. Opening one eye just a bit, she saw the Doctor standing over her.<p>

"The patient is now fully unconscious," she heard the Doctor telling someone else. "Hand me the laser scalpel, Mister Paris."

Willow felt bad that she'd have to hurt Tom again, but she knew that there was no other way. She reached out with her mind to her surroundings, and she felt the connections to the Earth in all the humans on board, and she felt the alien touches of those from other worlds. The power she felt building inside of her was like nothing she'd felt before, and it was good.

Her eyes shot open, and she knew that they were totally black.

"Doc," Tom said as a warning.

"Silence," Willow commanded, and Tom spoke no more. She sat up and propped herself off the biobed. "Sleep," she said, and Tom fell to the ground and closed his eyes.

The two security guards at the door had their phasers drawn and aimed at Willow, but they didn't fire.

Willow cocked her head to the side. "Why don't you shoot me? Are you afraid you'll hit the Doctor? Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt him. You can get out of my way now if you want to, Doc."

Nodding mutely, the Doctor stepped backwards through the force field that Willow now saw was keeping her penned in.

"Huh. Neat little energy barrier. What happens if I touch it?" she pondered, feeling for it with her hand before she felt a sharp shock. "Ow! That kinda stung. Feels powerful. I'm game for that."

Willow reached out her right arm and held her palm facing upward. The force field began to flicker as the orange-ish energy bent inward and began to trickle and swirl into her waiting palm until she held a ball of energy in her hand. "Feels all tingly," she said with a smile.

"I wouldn't recommend shooting me, just so you know," she told the security goons, who were concealing their terror rather well. "Because, if I lose my concentration, then this ball of energy loses cohesion as well. And if it suddenly expands… Well, I don't know what would happen. Do you? No? I didn't think so. Say! I have an idea! I think this ball could be bigger."

With a thought, the ball of crackling orange energy grew to about Willow's own height, and she now held it in both hands.

"Hm. Seems a bit too big for just one. So, we make with the mitosis, and…" The sphere pinched in the middle and split into two identical spheres, one held in each hand. "Presto! Now, here's the fun part."

Willow rolled the two energy spheres like bowling balls until they hit the two security guards, who were too shocked to fire their weapons. Before they knew it, they each found themselves encased in their own private force field.

"Oh, don't look so scared. It's not gonna eat you. It's just gonna keep you there, nice and harmless, until I'm somewhere else, and then you'll be right as rain. But, just to be safe, why don't you both take a nap, but stay upright. I don't want you to get too shocked."

The guards' heads fell onto their shoulders as they fell asleep. Willow let out a breath she had not realized that she had been holding. "Whew. That was nice and quiet and non-lethal. I could grow used to this."

"I'm glad you think so," the Doctor said from the other side of the room. "I'd especially prefer that the 'non-lethal' part of that equation remain firmly in place. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll wake Seven and you can get out of here.

Willow watched as the Doctor deactivated the force field keeping Seven in place and woke her up. The moment Seven's eyes opened, Willow felt a surge of positive energy course through her. They were connected on some level, she knew it. How the bond had formed, and what exactly it entailed, Willow didn't know. But she wasn't about to question something that seemed like it was meant to be.

"Doctor. Willow," Seven said as she stood up. "The dream. Sunnydale. Was it…"

"Real? I think so, Seven. How do you feel?" Willow asked.

"I feel strange," Seven said. "But good. I cannot describe it in any other way."

"I know what you mean. And I'm sorry, Doc, but I think this is beyond your area of expertise. Also, I'm gonna have to deactivate you for now. Gotta make it look like you weren't helping us."

"I understand," the bald hologram said. "Good luck, both of you."

"Thank you, Doctor," Seven said. "I will not forget your kindness."

"Neither will I," Willow said. "We owe you one, so I'm sorry about this. Off."

The Doctor fizzled out of physical being, but Willow was positive that he was safe inside of _Voyager's_computers.

Willow felt her eyes return to their normal color as she bent down and picked up the phaser. She held it gingerly by the handle, memories of Warren Mears causing bile to rise in her throat. "Seven, do you think you can use this non-fatally if you have to?"

"Yes," the blonde said without hesitation, taking the weapon and setting it to stun.

Willow nodded. "All right, then. Let's go. What deck do we want?"

"Deck ten. Follow me."

"Yes, ma'am," Willow said with a smirk as she exited sickbay. "Oh! One thing, first." Willow walked up to Seven and removed her combadge and placed it on the biobed. "Don't want anyone tracking us. Now then, let's get out of here."

* * *

><p>Captain Janeway stood in the Astrometrics lab with Ensign Kim as they reviewed the data on the nebula that was standing in the way of their journey home. "What can you tell me, Ensign?"<p>

"It's a Mutara-class nebula, Captain, and I've been able to analyze its scope. It would take about a year to go around it, but we could shorten that to just a month if we could just go through it. But we'd need that barrier to keep us safe. Otherwise, the radiation would burn us all to death within minutes."

Janeway mulled over the option of using Rosenberg to help them out in this mess, but that was assuming the memory erasure went without a hitch. "Are there any other alternatives? Any other way we could survive the trip?"

"Only one that I can think of, Captain. Stasis units for the entire crew. The Doctor would be the only one who could operate in the nebula. But I think I heard him say that Seven's Borg implants protected her as well."

Janeway groaned. The only two chances she had to get through the nebula safely were currently on an operating table. Maybe she'd have to wait to do the procedure until they were safely across. She could simply have 'reconsidered' the necessity of the procedure, and hopefully Seven and Rosenberg would cooperate.

"Well, Ensign, it looks like I need to have a chat with a few people. Continue your scans." Janeway turned and exited the Astrometrics Lab and headed towards the turbolift as she tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Sickbay."

Silence greeted her, and the Captain stopped walking. "Sickbay, respond." Again, no reply was forthcoming. "Computer, locate the Emergency Medical Hologram."

A chime indicated the computer working. "The Emergency Medical Hologram is offline."

That wasn't right at all. "On whose authority?"

Another chime. "Unknown."

Janeway felt a chill in her spine fighting against a fiery rage in her chest. She slapped her combadge. "Janeway to security. Intruder alert. Intruders are Seven of Nine and Willow Rosenberg. Subdue Seven of Nine, and I am authorizing the use of lethal force against Willow Rosenberg."

She pressed the button to call the turbolift as security acknowledged her orders from all across the ship. Janeway tried to will away the headache that was beginning to form. Willow Rosenberg was too dangerous to be allowed to roam _Voyager_any longer. She still hoped that Seven could be saved, but it would be difficult given her feelings for Willow. But Janeway was sure that Seven would understand in time.

The turbolift doors opened and Janeway walked in, only to find Seven aiming a phaser at her, Rosenberg standing right beside her. Both wore faces of cold fury.

"Get in," Willow said.

Janeway didn't even think of disobeying and immediately complied without a word. It suddenly occurred to her that Rosenberg had just compelled her with her powers, and Janeway couldn't even bring herself to resist.

The turbolift doors closed. "Deck ten," Seven said, and they resumed their journey downward.

"So, Captain," Rosenberg said sweetly, causing Janeway to sweat with fear. "Take Seven alive, but kill me. Was I really that bad of an influence on your ship?"

"The Omega Directive, Willow," Seven said to Janeway's horror. "It demands that any traces of Particle 010 be destroyed by any means necessary. Killing you and destroying your body would satisfy the directive."

"Oh. I see." Rosenberg seemed genuinely hurt, but Janeway couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for the young woman. She was too afraid. "Why didn't you kill me right off the bat, Captain?"

Janeway didn't want to give the upstart brat any information. "I thought you could help us get home," she found herself saying. "I would have argued on your behalf to Starfleet Command if we did get back."

"But you wouldn't have stood in their way if they tried to kill me, right?"

"Correct," Janeway said against her will.

"I see," Willow said, mulling things over. "And that's why you tried to wipe our memories? To make us compliant and blissfully unaware of any death warrant on either of our heads, right?"

"Yes," Janeway said, appalled at what she was saying.

Seven looked livid. "You speak to me of human values. Of respect for the thoughts of the individual. But you are frightened by that which challenges your authority. I did not think you would go so far as to attempt to kill Willow. I did not think you were capable of murder, Captain."

"I am capable of murder," Janeway said without thinking.

"Why am I not surprised?" Willow said. "Computer, begin recording this conversation."

The computer chimed to Janeway's displeasure. "Recording."

"Now, Captain," Rosenberg said, ignoring the open turbolift door, "would you care to explain that last statement?"

_Go to Hell! _Janeway thought venomously, but that was not what came out of her mouth. "In our second year in the Delta Quadrant," she said, "there was a transporter accident. Tuvok and Neelix were fused into one being. Tuvok and Neelix ceased to exist, and a new being called Tuvix was born. At first, we regarded him as nothing more than an anomaly, but he began to develop a unique personality and found a place with the crew."

Seven and Rosenberg nodded as one. "What happened?" Seven asked.

"The Doctor found a way to reverse the accident and restore Tuvok and Neelix. But that would mean that Tuvix would have to die, and he had grown attached to life. I wanted my friend, Tuvok, back, and I also missed Neelix. I ordered Tuvix to undergo the procedure, but he resisted. I accompanied him to Sickbay with a security contingent. The Doctor refused to kill Tuvix, so I performed the procedure personally."

Rosenberg's hair went black in an instant, and a gust of wind swept through the turbolift. "So you sacrificed one soul to recall two others from beyond death? You murdered an innocent to drag two others out of their eternal rest?"

"I did what I had to do for my crew," Janeway protested.

"She really believes that," Rosenberg said incredulously. "And of course, murder is so much easier after you've done it once. Believe me, I know. And I think you do as well, Captain."

"I don't want to," Janeway pleaded despite herself. She had meant to deny the allegation entirely, but that wasn't what she'd said. Why was that? Why couldn't she speak her own mind?

"The thing is," Rosenberg said, "I had friends to bring me back from the brink. I had people to call me out when I was wrong. What do you do to those who question you when you go too far?"

"I throw them in the brig," Janeway said without hesitating, cursing the witchcraft that held her captivated.

"She does not deserve to live," Seven said vehemently, and Janeway felt horrified at the bloodlust in the ex-drone's voice. "We should kill her. The galaxy will be safer with her dead, Willow."

"No, Seven," Rosenberg said gently. "If we do that, we're no better than thugs ourselves. So listen to me, Captain. You're going to do exactly as I say, do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Janeway said, terrified of what was about to happen.

"You are going to chart a course around this nebula. It will take you a while, but you need to get used to the long and hard way rather than demanding a shortcut all the time. While you travel around the nebula, you will train a replacement for you as Captain. You will teach only what is necessary for a ship's captain. You will not advise on what is right or proper, and you will select your replacement with an eye for who has the most merit to get you all home safely, whether it takes a day or a century or longer. Your replacement will plan long-term, getting a larger medical staff, encouraging crewmembers to fraternize and procreate to train a replacement crew for when you are no longer able to operate the ship as you are now. And you will confess to your crew, publicly and on the record, every single violation of law and ethics that your mind and conscience can conceive of."

Janeway found herself nodding, furious at her body's betrayal. "I understand. I'll do it."

"Good. Oh! And could ya call off the order to kill me and capture Seven? That's kind of something I'd like not to happen."

The Captain tapped her combadge. "Janeway to security. Belay my latest orders. Seven of Nine and Willow Rosenberg are not to be troubled. Janeway out."

Rosenberg smiled, and her hair was starting to redden again. "Thank you. Now, then, head up to the bridge and start with those confessions. I think your senior officers deserve to hear the truth about their Captain, don't you agree?"

"My crew deserves the truth," Janeway said, and she was surprised to believe it herself.

"Good. Report to the bridge, Captain. Seven, let's get the hell out of here," Rosenberg said, stepping out of the lift. Her hair was now fully red again. "Any last words to the one who saved you from the Borg, Seven?"

Seven glared at Janeway from the hallway. "If I see you again, I will kill you, Captain."

"No you won't, Seven," Rosenberg said patiently. "But, you get the general idea, Kathy. We're gonna go escape now. Buh-bye!"

The turbolift doors closed. "Bridge," Janeway ordered, and she felt a feeling of cold dread fill her as she realized what she was about to do. The absolute worst part was that the Captain was completely powerless to stop it from happening. Resistance was completely and utterly futile.

* * *

><p>Seven led Willow to the shuttlebay, slightly angry that she hadn't been permitted to kill Captain Janeway. Unlike the Captain, Seven hadn't been magically compelled to obey, but she had done as Willow said all the same. After their shared dream, Seven understood certain things about the red-haired witch that seemed worth heeding. Not killing Janeway was one of these things.<p>

"You okay, Seven?" Willow asked her.

"I am feeling uneasy," she confessed. "I am not comfortable with Captain Janeway being allowed to live."

"That's not our decision to make, Seven. There are lines that we aren't meant to cross. If you do, then you become no better than the evil you sought to stop. Believe me."

"I do believe you, Willow. I just want to see her pay for her misdeeds."

"Revenge can be sweet," Willow agreed. "But I think it's best if we put her behind us. We're going to go our separate ways."

"Why?" Seven asked. "You had the Captain doing as you wanted. We could use this ship's resources to our benefit."

"But that would be to the detriment of the rest of the crew, who aren't guilty of what Janeway is guilty of. And hold on a second. Is this the shuttlebay behind these doors?"

"Yes. Why? Is something wrong?"

"There's an intense magical aura coming from the place. It doesn't feel evil, though. Let's check it out."

Seven entered first, and she saw nothing out of the ordinary. The standard compliment of shuttlecraft sat idle in the hangar bay.

Willow walked from shuttle to shuttle, feeling each one with her hands. "This isn't right. These shuttles shouldn't be here. They were created with magic."

Seven arched her metal eyebrow. "Explain."

"There's a magic here in this room. It feels only a few years old, but it's filling a void of some sort. Give me a moment." Willow steadied her breathing and opened her eyes, which were now pure white. "Oh, I see. Someone knew that you'd be sending out shuttles a lot, and this someone knew that you wouldn't be bringing them back, so poof! Instant shuttle replacement! And there's a subtle little charm here to keep anyone from questioning it."

"The Caretaker," Seven guessed aloud.

Willow rejoined Seven, her eyes once again green. "Caretaker, huh? Sounds like an interesting story. So, pick a shuttle, whichever you feel is best, and we'll get out of here and tell a few stories on the way. Oh! And let's not forget to beam an alcove from Cargo Bay Two. I'll see if I can work some mojo so you don't need it if I can."

Seven inclined her head. "Any of these craft will suffice. I can enhance the systems with Borg technology, but if we are not headed through the nebula towards the Alpha Quadrant…?"

As one, the two women said melodiously, "Where do we go from here?"


	8. The Beginning

**Chapter Eight: The Beginning**

* * *

><p>Willow opened her eyes and felt a slight kink in her neck as she woke up in her seat. Seven was operating the shuttle's controls in the seat next to hers, and Willow took in the lines passing by through the glass. <em>Seven said that those were stars, passing by so quickly that it's all a blur. I gotta figure out how a warp engine works!<em>

"You're awake," Seven noted from beside her. "Did you rest well?"

"Yeah, thanks Seven," Willow said. "My neck is a bit achy, though. How long has it been since we left _Voyager_?"

"Almost four days."

Willow nodded absently. She'd been passing in and out of consciousness since they'd left the larger ship. The adrenaline the Doctor had given her had kept her going for a while, but the amount of magic she'd been using to compel Janeway to speak the truth had caught up with her, and she'd had to rest. She didn't think she'd be falling asleep again anytime soon, but she didn't know for certain.

"And, you're sure that your alcove is okay back there? No problems with it?" The last thing Willow had done before collapsing in her seat was to help Seven to beam her alcove onto the shuttle in a non-intrusive manner.

"The alcove is functioning normally," Seven said coolly. The blonde regarded her companion. "Your neck is what aches, Willow?"

"Yeah," Willow said with a wince. "I just slept on it funny, is all."

Rising to her feet, Seven moved behind Willow's seat and began to massage her tense neck muscles.

"Oh! Oh, wow! Oh, Goddess! Seven, where did you learn to do this?" Willow said as her companion kneaded her tense muscles quite skillfully.

"As a Borg, I possessed detailed knowledge of the anatomy of thousands of species. I only meant to be helpful. Should I stop?"

"No! Goddess, no! It feels great, Seven. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Seven said softly. "The Doctor recommended this practice to improve our relationship," she confessed. "He believed it would bring us closer."

"Mm. Yeah…" Willow closed her eyes and let herself relax under Seven's firm, steady hands.

"Willow? Do you need to rest again?"

"Huh? Nope. All good here. Just that this is really turning me on, you know?"

The kneading stopped for a brief moment before resuming. "No, I do not know. Please explain."

Willow chuckled. "A massage is usually something that you either have someone professional do to you, or else someone who you feel close to. I like to think that I have both with you."

"Thank you," Seven said carefully, and Willow thought she detected some unspoken uncertainty in the blonde's voice.

Turning her seat around to face her, Willow looked up into Seven's eyes. _That's right, Rosenberg. Look up into her eyes. Don't let yourself be distracted by what's at chest level. Don't stare at her big, gorgeous breasts any longer than you have to. Don't stare. Don't stare._

"Willow? Is everything all right? You are staring at my chest."

_Crap._"Uh, yeah. Hold on a sec." Willow got up out of her not-quite-comfy seat and found her eyes closer to Seven's own gaze. "Okay. Better now. So, um, I was actually going to ask if you were okay. You sounded a bit funny a second ago."

Seven looked away for a moment, but quickly brought her gaze back to look at Willow. "I am unaccustomed to feeling this way about someone. I feel attracted to you, Willow. You know this. We have had sexual relations. But I am uncertain of what to feel now. I had assumed that such things would continue, but you said we needed to take things at a slower pace. I do not understand why this is."

Willow sighed and smiled patiently. "I'd ask you to sit down, but I know you prefer to stand. So, let me think of how to put this, Seven. When we first slept together – well, spent time awake together, technically – we had known each other less than a day. I felt attracted to you as well, but I was acting mostly on impulse there. Sex doesn't usually happen until both people know each other a lot better than we did when we first, um, did it together."

"But we know each other better now," Seven said, clearly puzzled. "Does your refusal to have sex with me mean that you do not care about me anymore?"

"No!" Willow cried, suddenly feeling quite trapped. "It's not like that, Seven! It's just that…" Willow took a deep breath before continuing. "I shouldn't have engaged you like I did as soon as I did. I should have waited until we knew each other better. Sex is something that's meant to be a sign of trust and intimacy between two people. I guess I had just been so lonely, lonelier than I realized, and I found that I wanted you so badly that I couldn't help myself."

Willow sighed, and now she did sit down. "It's a problem I have. I see something I want, and I take it. I don't think, I just do. It makes things messy."

Seven sat down as well, and the gesture struck Willow as sweet. Seven hated sitting down normally, she knew. That she did so willingly now was indicative of… Of something. "I still feel strongly for you. Not just in my body, but my emotions will not let me think about much else. You have treated me as a true equal, Willow. You have shown me things that no one else has, and you have shown me new ways of looking at things that had never occurred to me before.

"You make me act irrationally. I cannot focus when I am thinking about you. My efficiency is impaired, but I find myself not caring. These feelings frighten me, but they also feel right. I don't understand any of this, Willow!" she cried.

Willow took Seven's hands in her own and shushed Seven gently. "It's okay, Seven. It's okay. I feel things for you, too. I just don't want to take advantage of you by mistake. In some ways, you're a lot younger than me. You know a lot about tons of species, but socially, you haven't done what most people your age have gone through. And I'm not trying to insult you or make you feel bad. I just want you to know that, how do I put this? In my experience, using someone younger than you to get what you want is wrong. And I guess I decided to slow things down because I was afraid I would be, well, violating you."

Willow hung her head. "And, I was afraid that I had already done so by making love to you the once already. You deserve better, Seven."

For her part, Seven of Nine looked like she'd just been struck. It wasn't often that anyone called her childish, nor was it every day that a human showed her this level of compassion. Putting together the notion of compassion along with that of calling her young, and Seven found herself at a loss.

"I don't know what I deserve," Seven said at last. "But I want to be with you, Willow. And if we're going to be together for a while, then I want to get to know you. Shall we start now? Or do you require more rest?"

Willow looked up and smiled. Seven was so cute when she got eager about learning new stuff. "Sure thing. You remember that dream we shared? Let me tell you about myself. And feel free to interrupt whenever you want with a question, no matter how stupid it may seem."

Seven nodded and smiled slightly. "I will comply."

* * *

><p>Three weeks later, Seven found herself increasingly drawn to Willow. She found herself sneaking glimpses at the redhead as she slept, and began to fantasize about what it might have been like to grow up beside Willow, seeing the things she had seen.<p>

Willow had described things to Seven that had caused the witch great fear, but it seemed that a mere touch from Seven helped to quell those strong emotions. It was curious, but not at all negative. To Seven, the various demons that Willow described were nothing more than unexplained alien phenomena. Superstitions were irrelevant so long as they had no basis in truth. When reality intervened, they ceased to be superstitions.

That the object of her affections had taken up armed conflict against overwhelmingly superior forces at such a young age spoke highly of her character. Seven found herself ashamed at her cowardice of the Borg by comparison. When they had come for her aboard the _Raven,_she had tried to hide, and she hadn't been able to resist. And then she'd become one of them.

Willow had explained that while she couldn't understand what it meant to be Borg, she could understand how it felt to lose someone to them. The Vampires that she described were similar in that they destroyed an individual and added its body to their own numbers. She claimed to have even met a vampiric version of herself from an alternate reality. The mention of that encounter had again made Seven reflect on how things might have been for her if her life had gone differently.

The console beeped, and Seven disengaged the warp engines. "We've arrived, Willow."

"All right!" Willow said excitedly. "I hope we don't make them feel bad or anything. I guess we should hail them. That's what it's called when you call someone in space, right?"

"Yes, Willow. Hailing frequencies to the Topara are open."

Willow leaned forward. "Uh, hello? This is, um, this is Willow Rosenberg and Seven of Nine calling whoever's down there on Topa. So, yeah. Hi there!"

A small screen lit up to display the faces of the High Clerics. "Guardian Willow! Seven of Nine! Welcome back!" Teya said warmly.

"Thank you for welcoming us," Willow said diplomatically. "Uh, would it be okay if we landed? We're in a shuttle. It's not very big compared to the ship I left on. As for why we're no longer with _Voyager_, well, things didn't quite work out with us, and I also have an idea. But I need your permission."

"We will do whatever we can to assist you, Guardian. Do you remember the site we showed you once from where we launch our satellites?"

"Yup! Is that where you want us to land?"

"That would be optimal, Guardian. Thank you for your consideration."

Willow chuckled. "It's your world, not mine. I don't want to do anything to make things tough for you. I've told you all to never give me a free pass, haven't I?"

"So you have," Yorei said, speaking for the first time since the conversation had begun. "I will arrange to have a vehicle bring you to us."

"Thank you, both. May Peace go with you."

"And with you," the Clerics said as one, bowing their heads before signing off.

"So," Willow said, turning to Seven. "Do you think you'll be able to go without regenerating for a little bit longer? It's been a few days."

"I do not need to regenerate at this time," Seven said, and as she said so, she reflected on the strangeness of that. She had always had to regenerate after a few days at the most, but the further they'd gotten away from Voyager and closer to Topa, the less time Seven seemed to need to spend in her alcove.

"Weird," was Willow's contribution to the discussion. "Not complaining, but it's still strange, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Seven said, not elaborating on her uneasiness.

A few minutes later, they had touched down on the surface and were being escorted to the capital by a pair of friendly Toparan men who worked at the launch site. Unlike most other species, they did not act strangely around her, or fearful. It was reassuring.

On her second trip to the temple garden now, Seven found herself looking around at her surroundings with a different eye than she had before. The first time she had walked here, Seven was alert for threats at every turn. Now, however, she found herself taking in the simple beauty of the place. She was forced to concede that beauty and aesthetics were not irrelevant as she had once thought. They could bring immense pleasure, and that was also relevant.

Willow had left her side to speak with the High Clerics, leaving Seven to explore the luscious area. She stroked a fern with one hand, feeling its softness and coolness beneath her fingertips. Since her sexual encounter with Willow, Seven had been more prone to touch things, and she found herself in awe of the joy that could be found from such simple things.

Willow rejoined her shortly with both of the High Clerics. "So, uh, Seven… I've discussed my idea with High Clerics Yorei and Teya, and they've agreed that as long as we're careful, we can go ahead with what we discussed. But I have to know that you're sure it's what you want, Seven."

Taking Willow's hand in her own, Seven smiled gently. "I am sure."

"Very well," Teya said softly. "The ritual will be lengthy, but it will allow us to fulfill a debt long since overdue. And if you can benefit from it as well, Seven of Nine, then it will bring us all the more joy. To heal one such as you is an honor and a pleasure."

Seven didn't know what to say, so she simply nodded as the High Clerics went about to make preparations.

Willow took Seven's other hand with hers and smiled. "And now, we just have to wait a little bit longer."

* * *

><p>Willow found herself sitting on the altar where she had been a statue for almost four hundred years, but this time Seven sat with her. They held hands and looked into each other's eyes. The clerics had told them that when Seven had touched Willow and woken her from her sleep on the altar, a bond had formed between them. Willow didn't know what to expect from the bond, and she didn't know what it entailed, save that it was there in some form or another. It was magic of some kind, she was sure.<p>

Was this why they had felt so attracted to one another? Willow didn't want to think that magic was responsible for what they had together, and upon further thought, she knew that what she felt was truly genuine. Unlike the love spell that Xander had misused back in High School, this was not sudden or compelling. It was natural.

It might have explained why Seven no longer seemed to need to regenerate at all, though. What other benefits might come, Willow didn't know, but she guessed that shared dreams were part of the package.

The sun was setting over the horizon as a circle of clerics continued their chanting.

"By the Power, by the Will, and by the Spirit, shield these souls from sight."

Upon hearing the clerics words, Willow knew that she and Seven had become invisible. And she knew that Seven knew this as well. She could feel their hearts beating as one, their meditation bringing them closer for the ritual. And it felt damned good, too.

"By the Earth, by the Water, and by the Air, deliver these souls unto their Time of Life."

Willow felt the wind gust about her, and she knew that she had to keep her eyes closed, even if it was so tempting to snap just a peek.

The wind died down, and the feeling of stone beneath her was gone. Opening her eyes, Willow got to her feet alongside Seven.

Looking up at the moonless night sky, Willow saw the familiar sight of a Borg cube coming ever closer to the planet's surface.

Behind her, she heard a different chant from a larger circle of clerics, and a portal of blue light was coalescing. She knew that this chant had been going on for days, and only now was it about to reach its completion. Outside of the circle of clerics, which they themselves were within, thousands of people made ready to flee through the portal.

It finally opened, but the clerics were immediately met by the sight of a large party of pissed-looking Slayers, Buffy taking point with the Scythe in her hands.

"Don't any of you even think of setting foot here," Buffy snarled.

The clerics began to stammer pleas and apologies that Willow was all too familiar with. They begged Buffy to let them pass, professed that they were harmless and needed to flee. But Buffy was a Slayer, fiercely protective of the Earth. And with their red and black eyes and their green skin, Willow couldn't blame her friend for mistaking the Topara for demons.

"Hang on!" a voice called out from behind Buffy, and Willow realized that the voice was her own. Seven's hand tightened around her own as she saw herself come forward to take a magical reckoning of the Topara. She stepped through the portal and looked up into the night sky.

"Oh, damn! Buffy, get some of the other witches and seal this portal, quickly! These aren't demons at all, but there's something terrible about to attack them."

"What about you, Will?" Buffy asked. "Can't you close it?"

"Of course, I could. But then I wouldn't be able to drive off whatever that is in the sky."

"What? You want us to leave you behind, Will? Not gonna happen."

"It's gotta happen, Buffy. These people are innocent. They may not be human, but they're not demons. I'm not gonna stand by and let this world end. I almost did that to our world once, and I'll be damned if I do anything to let another world die because I was a coward!"

Willow saw the pain in her friend's face, but she knew that Buffy knew wouldn't be winning this argument.

"Don't worry," past-Willow said. "You'll see me again, Buffy."

"How can you know that, Willow?" Buffy protested.

"I don't," Willow heard herself confessed. "But I just know it somehow. Now get that portal closed, Buffy! If you don't, then Earth really will be at risk."

Knowing that the portal would soon be closed from her native side, Willow took Seven's hand and slipped through the portal as the Slayers parted to make way for the witches. Still invisible, Seven and Willow went through unchallenged.

A round of chanting began to echo around them, only with human voices this time. Willow looked back and saw her other self look right at her, and she could swear that her past self was seeing her despite her invisibility.

In a brilliant flash, the portal disappeared. As it did, Willow and Seven became visible.

"I don't believe it," Buffy said to herself. "Do any of you really think we're going to see Willow again?"

"I think so," Rona said.

"You do?" Buffy asked, her eyes wet with tears.

"Uh huh," the younger slayer said, gesturing with her head to where Willow and Seven were standing, hands still holding each other.

As Buffy turned to face her, Willow gave a nervous little wave. "Uh, hiya, Buff!"

"Willow!" Buffy cried, tackling the witch in a bear hug.

"Air, Buffy!" Willow said, fond memories of Slayer-hugs coming back to her in a rush.

"Oh! Sorry. But, how? What happened? And who's this?"

"This is Seven of Nine. Seven, this is Buffy Summers, Senior Slayer and longtime friend of mine."

Seven extended her hand. "It is an honor to meet you, Buffy. I've heard a lot about you."

Willow watched with bemusement as Buffy took Seven's hand. "Uh, it's good to meet you, too. Can't say that I know anything about you, though. And what the hell is that you are wearing?"

Seven shifted uncomfortably. "Willow has indicated to me that I am in need of 'real clothing.' She intimated that you would be willing to assist me in this."

Buffy got an evil grin on her face that Willow knew all too well. "Oh, I think that can be arranged. It's been too long since I've been to the mall. But, later. This portal has been building for days, and now that it's gone, I think we've all earned a day or two of R&R." A round of cheers from the younger slayers greeted Buffy's remarks.

* * *

><p>Seven took in the empty building around her, which seemed filthy and long abandoned. Willow's living quarters were not distant, she had said, and Seven was hoping they were more amenable.<p>

Hand in hand, the two women stepped outside, and Seven had to shield her eyes at first. The sun was shining overhead, and a fresh breeze whistled through the air. A pier was off to one side, and a body of water greeted Seven's eyes, the cawing of gulls touching her ears in a way that was not quite unpleasant.

A city waited for them in the other direction. It was primitive to her eyes, but something simply felt right about it. This was Earth. For the first time in her life, Seven was standing on the human homeworld. The sun on her face felt warm and wonderful, and she felt an urge to tear off her biosuit and expose the rest of her body to her native star. She held in the impulse for now.

Willow looked at her, a warm smile on her face. "Well, this is it. How do you feel, Seven?"

Seven of Nine, not quite a Borg, not quite a human, took Willow in her arms, feeling sure of herself for the first time in a long time. "I feel like I'm home."

Willow smiled and pressed her lips to Seven's, and the two held each other for what might have been a second or an eternity. As they held each other, the two lovers found themselves knowing each other in a way that they couldn't explain, but that they knew was right.

"Yes," they said as one. "We're home."

* * *

><p>Thank you all for reading this story. I may write a sequel, but that's not a guarantee. I hope you enjoyed The Pursuit of Perfection. ^_^<p> 


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